


Sinners, Saints, and Saviors

by headoverhook



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-07-18 23:58:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 57,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16129361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headoverhook/pseuds/headoverhook
Summary: Being attracted to a priest, people disappearing into thin air without a trace, and strangers appearing all over town - Emma Swan doesn’t need more problems in her life. But then her ex shows up in town and turns her world upside down. 3B canon divergence.





	1. The Yellow Line

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, it feels totally surreal that I can finally share this story with you. Since this is the first time I’ve finished a story before I start posting it I have mixed feelings about this. There were times when I had the urge to throw my iPad into the corner and just be done with this story. But I pushed through and now I can only hope that you’ll like what I came up with. :-) 
> 
> Special thanks to my awesome beta **mearcats** who did an amazing job editing this story. Another big thank you goes out to **sambethe** who made the fantastic banner you see at the top. Also, thanks to the mod team who made this event possible.
> 
> And to all the other participants of the CSBB - **WE MADE IT! You all rock!**

**Prologue - The Yellow Line**

“That’s quite the vessel you captain there, Swan.”

Her lips shook as she forced her mouth into a smile at his comment, his old-fashioned words soothing her somehow. He answered her shaky smile with a smile of his own, but then his smile suddenly faltered, his gaze turning serious and his voice dropped low.

“There’s not a day will go by I won’t think of you.”  
  
The words curled around her heart, finding their way through the walls around it. She knew she would probably never see him again, but still she felt lighter than she had in months.

“Good,” she replied, feeling a flutter deep in her stomach when his mouth curved up into an honest smile for once, not one of those smirks of his that were designed to rile her up.

He looked at her for a few more seconds, thoughts of missed chances swirling through her brain when he turned and stepped back.

And then Regina walked towards her and told her that both she and Henry would lose all their memories. That it’d be as though Storybrooke had never existed. It felt like a punch to her stomach, as though all the air had left her lungs at once, leaving her completely empty.

Not that she could do much about it. They had to go.

Her heart was heavy and her eyes burned with unshed tears she forced herself not to show as she turned around and walked to her car. How was this even fair? Why did she have to lose so much again? A sob lodged in her throat, but then her eyes fell on her son and she swallowed it down before it could escape. At least this time she wasn’t alone. Her son would be with her. In a few minutes she wouldn’t remember her old life anymore.  
  
It hurt like hell. Losing her parents all over again. Seeing how much it shook Henry to leave Regina behind. His grandparents and his father. She couldn’t help him with that pain. But  like her, he was going to lose all his memories. They got a fresh start. Together.  
  
Thinking about that didn’t lessen the pain, though. But driving over the yellow line would. Opening the door of her car, she climbed into the Bug.

 _There’s not a day will go by I won’t think of you._  
  
The lump in her throat grew again. She would lose him, too. The pirate had annoyed her to no end on their beanstalk adventure with his cocky attitude and flirtatious behavior. But then Neverland happened, and something...changed. He’d come back with the bean to help her find Henry, fought beside her against Pan. His darkest secret had been about her, about her being the first woman since Milah who he’d let anywhere near his heart. The goddamn pirate had told her that only hours after they’d kissed. Hours after he’d practically dared her into it with a cocky smirk and that damn tap of his finger against his lips. Something had just snapped inside her when he’d shot her volley back to her. She just couldn’t _not_ haul him towards her by the lapels of his ridiculous leather coat and show him that she was definitely able to handle it.  
  
But God, that kiss. She’d told him it was a one-time thing, but now she wasn’t so sure she really meant it. Moments away from losing all her memories she acknowledged to herself that he’d managed to do something a lot of men before him hadn’t been able. He’d started to chip away at the wall she’d built around her heart after Neal’s betrayal. She’d fought tooth and nail against this attraction, but he’d been persistent. And now she would forget everything about him. Every single flirtatious comment, every lascivious grin. Forget how blue his eyes were. Forget that she’d wondered since that kiss in the jungle of Neverland how his chest hair might feel beneath her fingers. How his naked skin might feel against hers. How his stubble might feel against the sensitive inside of her thighs.  
  
She would forget everything about him.  
  
In that moment her heart broke over all the things she would never find out now. She’d pushed him away over and over, and now she would never get a chance to pull him close instead of shoving him as far away from her as possible.  
  
Looking into the rear-view mirror, she saw him standing right beside her parents, tears blurring her vision as she swallowed hard. She had so many regrets, but in a few minutes even those would be gone. Shooting Henry a shaky smile, she fastened her seatbelt and started the car. She had to be strong for her son for just a few more minutes. The moment they drove over the yellow line she wouldn’t remember her heartbreak anymore.  
  
Closing her shaking fingers around the steering wheel, she let go of the clutch and started to drive. Not letting herself look back any longer, she kept her gaze straight forward, concentrating on the stretch of asphalt ahead of her. The yellow line came closer and closer, and then the front wheels of the car crossed it.  
  
A sharp tug shot through her stomach, her lungs constricting suddenly. She looked frantically over to Henry, seeing him slump forward in his seat. Reaching for him, she hit the brakes hard. But before she could touch him a searing pain shot through her whole body and everything went dark.


	2. First Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos. Every single one of them made me grin like a loon. Hopefully, you'll enjoy the rest of the story, too.**
> 
> **Oh, and there'll be updates for this story every Saturday. :-)**

Pain.

Horror.

Immeasurable grief.

All these emotions coursed through him every time he woke up from this particular nightmare. His missing hand throbbing with phantom pain, his throat dry from crying out, his eyes stinging from unshed tears.

He didn't need a psych degree to understand that his mind played tricks on him whenever he fell asleep. Maybe it was the way his brain tried to cope with the fact that he was missing one hand. Because as was the case with many of his dreams, this particular nightmare didn't make any sense.

He'd never been aboard a ship that was clearly occupied by real pirates. Not to mention the weird creature who cackled like a maniac while squeezing a pulsing heart in his hand.

Every single time, Milah crumpled in front of his feet while he was bound to the mast, unable to help her in any way. He could only watch when the creature who looked a lot like her husband squeezed her heart harder and harder. And then the bonds were gone, but he couldn't do anything other than drop to his knees beside her and listen to her whisper how much she loved him before the man who clearly wasn't a mere human crushed her heart and killed her.

Every time his heart seemed to be crushed right alongside hers, the ache only overshadowed by the raw physical pain when the monster hacked off his hand and disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke.

And every single time, in the seconds before he woke up, sweat-soaked and trembling, a blonde woman appeared in his peripheral view. Just a blurry vision. A woman he felt drawn to, a woman who seemed to be dear to his heart. These last few seconds of this particular dream were the only ones that seemed to be a real memory. He didn't know the woman, and he was absolutely certain he'd never met her before. But each time he woke up from that particular dream with his heart beating wildly in his chest, the same whispered words lingered in his ears.

_It was just a kiss.  
_

* * *

Emma jerked up in bed, her hands twitching violently, her breath coming out in shallow pants. The room was dark around her. The kind of darkness that told her that she'd jolted awake in the dead of night.

Pushing the thin blanket off her body, she tried to get rid of the claustrophobic feeling that wrapped around her. Her heart tried to hammer right out of her chest, and she rubbed her hand over it as she swung her legs out of the bed and stood up.

When she reached the window, she pressed her hand against the cool glass, looking over the silent streets of Storybrooke. Nothing moved. No sound was audible. Everything and everyone was asleep, nature and men.

Closing her eyes, she let her head drop against the pane, drawing in measured breaths to calm her racing heart. But her skin still prickled as if the magic she'd wielded in her dream still coursed through her system.

A low chuckle slipped from her lips because...magic? Really?

Of course, she knew it was just a dream. But it always felt so damn real. It felt more like a memory and not a dream.

As if she'd really had lit a candle with only the power of her mind. As if her ex, Neal, had really been thrown against a tree by Pan's shadow, by all things. As if her magic had saved them all. Because in her dream Neal hadn't been the only one she'd saved. Not that that fact alone didn't open a can of worms she definitely didn't want to take a closer look at. The therapists she was forced to see while being in jail had tried to 'shrink her up', probably getting excited that she was such a 'perfect case' with her past as a foster kid and ending up in jail. Seeing Neal in her dreams was bad enough, but seeing him wasn't the problem. The other man was. She felt another presence there in her dreams, her anguished voice being ripped out of her throat when she cried out a name. A ridiculous name, to boot. As if any grown man would actually be called 'Hook'.

The most disturbing part of her dream was the last few seconds when she thought she would finally be able to see the face of the mystery man. But before she could get close enough to really see him, he always disappeared in the thicket of the trees surrounding them. All she remembered when she woke up was the way the long, black leather coat he wore swished around his legs. And before she lost sight of him completely, the sparkle of light caught on something metallic, something that looked a lot like a metal hook. A hook the man wore in place of his left hand.

She never saw his face. Never saw him clearly. She seemed to always only catch a glimpse of him, his whole body blurry as if he was surrounded by a thin sheet of fog. The moment she tried to get closer to him he always disappeared and she woke up with a start.

Every single time after waking from that particular dream a part of her brain tried to tell her that she knew that man, while the other part tried to shrug it off as nothing more than a weird dream. But every single time, a shiver ran down her spine when whispered words seemed to float through the air, spoken in a hushed, accented voice.

The words never changed. The certainty in his voice always the same. And those words never ceased to shook her down to her core.

_When I win your heart, Emma - and I will win it - It won't be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me._

* * *

She really needed to find a way to make these weird dreams stop. They always seemed to leave her feeling completely exhausted in the morning. Her fatigue just dragged on while she had to fight to get Henry out of bed so that he wouldn't be late for school. On the weekends, he was always awake before she was, running into her room and shaking her shoulder until she reluctantly rolled out of bed to make them breakfast. The slow start and Henry's excited chatter combined with two cups of coffee always did the trick of clearing her mind and letting her share into the excitement Henry practically exuded about whatever plan they had for the day. But school days...they were a pain in the ass. Two cups of coffee didn't do her any good, the hasty breakfast she threw together for her and Henry left her even more adrift. Getting her head in the game after one of  _those_  nights was challenging, to say the least.

So yeah, those dreams had to go away somehow. She needed some uninterrupted sleep before she collapsed from exhaustion.

After taking Henry to school she decided that swinging by Granny's Diner was an absolute necessity if she wanted to get through the day. The smell of coffee, bacon, and baked goods that assaulted her the moment she stepped over the threshold always soothed her frazzled mind. Today was no exception.

"You look like death warmed over," Ruby greeted her when she slipped onto the barstool in the corner. Her favorite spot.

"Well, thank you very much for that compliment, Miss Lucas," Emma huffed, shooting her best friend a scathing look, not that it had ever worked on her before.

"Long night?" Ruby asked, cocking one eyebrow as she grinned at her.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Ruby." Emma let out a deep sigh, a part of her wishing she felt exhausted because she'd had a sweaty and satisfying romp between the sheets with a man who knew his way around a woman's body. It had definitely been a while since she had fallen into bed with such a man. Pressing her fingers against her temples, she let out another sigh, hoping the slight throbbing wouldn't turn into a full-blown headache. "Just some weird dreams."

"About the hunk in the leather coat?"

"Yeah, though didn't we already establish that I have no clue if he is a good-looking guy or not? Considering I can never see him clearly enough?"

"He's a hunk. I'm sure," Ruby replied with utmost confidence, clacking her red fingernails against the counter. Emma looked up at her, frowning when she saw the dreamy smile that suddenly pulled her friend's lips upwards. She knew that smile. "Speaking of hunks...have you seen the new priest yet?" Ruby pressed one hand over her chest and raised her other arm to put the back of her hand on her forehead, letting out a sigh that rivaled the ones she heard in every Regency film Ruby had forced her to watch. If she faked a swoon, Emma would hit her. "He is delicious."

"Ahem, Ruby?"

"What?"

"He's a priest," Emma felt the need to point out. She knew Ruby loved to talk about every single man in Storybrooke and highlight their best features. But a priest…yeah, she had to draw the line there. Her weird dreams were enough. There was no point in talking about sexy men who were totally unavailable for womankind. "You might not be Catholic or religious at all, but even you should know about the whole celibacy thing."

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate the eye candy."

"What about Victor?"

"What about him?"

"I thought you two have a thing?"

"Yeah, but I still have eyes in my head." Ruby rolled her eyes to emphasize her point, before shooting her one of her trademark 'duh' looks. "Wait until you see him. Then you know what I mean."

"Fine. For now I'm in desperate need of a bear claw and a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon in the biggest mug you can find."

"Coming right up."

She'd just taken a huge bite of her bear claw as the bell on the door jingled. Her cheeks filled with the delicious treat, she turned around to see who'd entered the diner and almost choked on the bearclaw when the hottest man she'd ever seen in her whole life stepped through the door. Dark, windswept hair that looked as if he'd just rolled out of bed after spending hours satisfying a woman while she screamed his name over and over. Not to mention the scruff covering his cheeks. The exactly right amount of scruff. Her libido that had been absent for months jumped back into the fray when she took him all in. Black shirt, black pants. God, black was definitely his color. And then her eyes swept over the white collar at the top of his shirt and she almost whimpered. Damn it all to hell. He was their new priest?

"Father Jones, what can I get for you on this fine morning?" Ruby's cheery voice broke through her wayward thoughts.

"Good morning to you too, Miss Lucas."

"It's Ruby, Father Jones. I've told you to call me that about a million times now."

"All right, lass," he replied, his mouth curling up into a smile. God, that smile was lethal. "Ruby it is."

British accent, too? Emma's stomach clenched with need as she struggled to swallow the bear claw without getting it into the wrong pipe. Her eyes wandered automatically down his body as he leaned over the counter, appreciating the view. And what a view it was. The black shirt and dress pants he wore didn't manage to hide anything, showing off a lean torso that tapered out into one delicious ass. Biting her tongue, Emma closed her eyes, almost groaning out loud as a lewd image of her wrapping her legs around his trim waist and holding onto that tight ass while he frantically pumped into her jumped into her brain. Snapping her eyes opened, she forced herself to look anywhere else than the hot priest leaning only a few feet away against the counter.

_That's right, Swan. He is a priest. Get your mind out of the gutter.  
_

* * *

Leaning against the counter, Killian looked around while waiting for his order to be readied. Ruby had been right – it was a very fine morning indeed. Sunbeams danced through the high windows, sending sparkles of light throughout the whole diner.

Maybe he'd be able to spend some time in the gardens. It helped him center his thoughts. His best sermons were always a result of gardening. Something about the smell of fresh turned earth, the feel of the dark soil between his fingers seemed to spur his creativity.

A twinkle of light caught his eyes, making him turn his head to find out the source. He lost his breath as his eyes fell on the woman sitting on the barstool a few feet away from him. Blonde hair swept into a haphazard ponytail, her sharp features tugging at something deep inside of him. He gulped hard, unable to keep himself from sweeping his gaze over her body. A short, red leather jacket hugging her torso, skinny black jeans revealing toned legs, knee high boots encasing her calves.

She was gorgeous all over.

Killian couldn't remember the last time a bout of lust had shot through his body. He'd been convinced that there weren't any carnal thoughts left in his brain anymore, no matter how beautiful a woman was. Apparently he'd been mistaken.

"Have you met my friend Emma yet, Father Jones?" Ruby asked him as she put his order on the counter.

"No, I haven't had the pleasure." He turned fully to face her. "Nice to meet you, Miss..."

"Swan," she replied, giving him a shy smile as she added, "Emma Swan."

What a fitting name for this beautiful woman. The way she tilted her head drew his eyes right to her neck, the image of a swan springing to mind. A fitting name indeed. Before his thoughts could again trail to more carnal places, he forced himself to speak again.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Swan," he said, stepping close to her and holding out his hand for her to shake. "My name is Killian Jones. But most people have taken to call me by my more colorful moniker…Father Jones."

He felt the blush rise in his cheeks. What a ridiculous thing to say. But she only laughed. "Then I'll call you that… _Father_   _Jones_."

He definitely imagined the emphasis on his title to sound flirtatious. His cheeks grew hotter, his embarrassment raising sky-high for having all these inappropriate feelings towards this woman. But all that was forgotten when her fingers closed over his. A jolt went through him from head to toe, making him almost jerk his hand out of her grip. Startled, his eyes snapped to hers. Flickers of emotions chased over her eyes, his body too keyed up for him to name them.

"I'll hopefully see you around," he said, hoping the crack in his voice on the last word existed only in his imagination. Letting her hand go a little too hastily, he turned away and grabbed the bag with his order. "I have to go."

He walked briskly towards the door, hoping it didn't look like he was fleeing a sinking ship. Though he couldn't get away from her fast enough. Not catching a last glimpse at her over his shoulder was harder than he wanted to admit. But he managed just so, drawing in a deep breath when he stepped onto the sidewalk. Turning sharply to the right in the direction of the church, he wondered how it was possible that a few minutes in the presence of a certain Emma Swan was able to rattle him down to his bones.

* * *

"And?"

"And the bear claw is great," Emma told Ruby, suppressing a laugh when Ruby put her fists on her hips and glared at her. Of course she knew what Ruby wanted to hear, but just admitting it right upfront was no fun at all.

"Emma Swan! You know exactly that I was  _not_  talking about the food."

"You weren't?" she replied in a too innocent voice. "But it's really quite tasty. Does Granny put something special in it? Some secret ingredient maybe?"

Emma jerked back when Ruby suddenly leaned over the counter, her face only inches away from her own.

"Tell me that I was right," Ruby said, grabbing her forearm, her nails digging into her flesh.

For one second Emma contemplated drawing it out longer, but when Ruby tightened her grip she feared her friend might pierce her skin. Having fun with her wasn't worth having deep gauges all over her forearms.

"Yeah, he's not bad looking."

"Not bad looking?" Ruby asked exasperated, narrowing her eyes to slits as she leaned back again. "I think you need to go see an ophthalmologist."

"No need for that. I have twenty/twenty vision."

"You're yanking my chain then."

"Maybe."

"No maybe about it," Ruby huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "He's insanely hot."

"All right, he is," Emma conceded with some reluctance. "Not that it matters if he's hot. Priest. Celibacy. Does that ring a bell?"

"Though there's no harm in enjoying what God has given him."

Emma laughed out loud when Ruby's eyes glazed over. But then she remembered how well those pants had hugged his ass and suddenly drooling over him seemed to be the only thing you could do when you came across such a fine male specimen. Besides, Ruby wasn't that far off. God had to have given him these looks for a reason, right?

_Exactly, Emma. He belongs to God._

The problem wasn't that she thought lightning would struck her if she ogled a man of the cloth, but she was afraid that letting herself forget that he wasn't available for any woman could turn into a disaster for her. She was way too attracted to him after only being in his presence for a few minutes. If it were only physical she might be able to just shrug it off, but when they shook hands and he looked at her with those too blue eyes there had definitely been a spark. A spark that might turn into an inferno if she let it. She'd been burned before. She wasn't seventeen anymore. Developing a crush on the priest was a really, really bad idea.

So she would just make sure to avoid him as much as possible. She couldn't think about having her wicked way with the hot priest if she never saw him, right?

* * *

Killian was still shaken from the encounter at the diner when he reached his small house right beside the church. Fumbling for the keys while pressing the take-out bag against his chest ended in him dropping them, right into the shrubbery beside the door. He bit his tongue to keep the expletive from spilling from his lips. After all, it didn't suit a priest to curse like a sailor.

Letting out a deep sigh, he put the bag with his grilled cheese sandwich on the ground and leaned over the brush, swallowing a few more curses as the thorns pierced through his shirt and scratched his skin while he groped through the thorns in search of his keys. After what seemed like hours he finally found them and got the door opened without dropping them again.

Putting the take-out bag on the kitchen table, he reached for his shirt and pushed it up, checking whether he needed to clean up the scratches. He let out another sigh when he looked at the bloody scratches covering his forearm. Letting the shirt fall back into place again, he decided that the scratches could wait a few minutes until he'd eaten. No reason to waste a perfectly delicious sandwich. He sat down on the kitchen stool and pulled the sandwich out. When he unwrapped it his mind drifted back to the woman he'd just met a few minutes ago at Granny's.

Emma Swan.

Swallowing down the bite he'd just taken, he closed his eyes. Her beauty was undeniable, but he'd met a lot of beautiful women in his life without feeling totally off-kilter. But Emma Swan…there was something special about her.

Even before he'd become a priest he hadn't believed in love at first sight. Attraction at first sight maybe, but not love. But when her fingers had closed around his he'd felt something more than attraction. A spark. He'd never met her before, but still he'd felt close to her, as if she knew him. Which was total bollocks, of course. But if he wasn't mistaken she'd felt it, too. Her eyes had widened and her mouth had dropped opened for just a few seconds before she'd averted her gaze. When their eyes had met again he couldn't see anything unusual in her gaze anymore.

Just thinking about her made his cock twitch and fill again. Groaning out loud, he put the sandwich down, suddenly not hungry anymore. He pushed off the stool and walked into the bathroom, leaning down to pull out the first aid kit. Taking care of the scratches kept his mind occupied for a few minutes. But when he walked back into the kitchen to throw the sandwich away, Emma was back in his thoughts.

Deciding that burying himself in some menial work would help chase the pictures of a certain blonde with sparkling emerald eyes out of his mind, he walked into the office. Sitting down behind his desk, he started his computer. Looking at the household ledgers should do the trick of killing his arousal since he didn't want to take care of the urgent throbbing between his legs. He hadn't needed to in months.

"Bloody hell," he cursed under his breath as he reached down to adjust himself. Realizing too late that he'd cursed out loud, his eyes jumped to the cross across from his desk and he lifted his hand automatically to cross himself. "Apologies for using rude language in your presence, Savior. Apparently old habits die hard. Won't happen again."

As long as he kept his distance from a certain Miss Emma Swan. This woman was too dangerous for his mind and faith. Since he hadn't seen her in church until now, he felt confident assuming that she was either not Catholic or not very religious. It shouldn't be that hard to avoid meeting her. She was way too tempting, and if he had one weakness he'd never been able to shake after taking the cloth, it was the fact that he'd always had a hard time withstanding temptations of any kind.

* * *

The pirate ship swayed under his feet as he entered the room, his eyes falling on the woman doing pull-ups and giving him a magnificent view of her backside. His mouth curled up into a smile when he let himself enjoy the sight for a few more seconds before he spoke, "Oh, don't stop on my account."

"Wouldn't think of it." Oddly enough, her voice sounded kind of tinny and as if she spoke from far, far away.

She still didn't turn towards him, her hair obscuring her face. Then his vision suddenly went blurry, as if he were looking at her through a window that was pelted with rain and slightly milky. He shook his head, wondering why his eyes suddenly seemed to stop working properly.

"What're you doing?" He felt compelled to ask despite his peculiar vision problems.

"Getting ready for a fight."

He jolted awake, his heart racing in his chest, her words still sounding in his ear like a far-away echo. He didn't recognize the voice. He didn't know that woman. Then why did the whole scene feel so familiar? And the pirate ship again? Why was it always a pirate ship? Not to mention that he remembered wearing a heavy leather coat and having a hook as a hand. That was completely absurd.

Closing his eyes, he tried to bring the dream back into his conscious mind. But all he managed was a clear image of the room he'd been in. A shaky laugh rumbled out of his chest when he realized that the pirate ship he couldn't stop dreaming about was actually the Jolly Roger, the show boat that was moored at the pier. He probably had taken one too many tours inspecting it since he'd come to town two weeks ago. Add to that his obsession with old history, especially those of pirates the dreams made a lot more sense.

_The blonde woman looks like Emma._

He shook his head, letting another laugh spill over his lips. That was even more preposterous than imaging having a hook attached to his left wrist instead of his prosthetic hand. The woman in his dreams couldn't be Emma. He had just met her a few hours ago. He definitely didn't know her, and he definitely didn't spend any time with her on a ship.

Maybe he should spend a few hours tomorrow praying the rosary, finding peace, like always, in repeating the Holy Mary and Lord's Prayer. Afterwards, he could spend some time in the gardens. That might put his troubled mind to rest before his dreams and a certain woman would drive him insane.


	3. Cookies and Kittens

Three weeks later Emma wasn't so sure anymore that not seeing a certain priest was making it any easier to forget their meeting. He had now even slipped into her dreams, taking the place of the stranger in the leather coat. Dreams that she still had almost every night. But the dream last night was the icing on the cake.

She dreamt about being in kind of a jungle, the heat pressing down on her, sweat streaming out of every single pore on her body. She argued with the stranger in the leather coat. Well, if she were honest, it was more flirting than arguing. Then he said something about her showing him how thankful she was while tipping his finger against his lips. She told him he couldn't handle it and he challenged her back. Of course the only thing she could do then was close her hands around the lapels of his coat and haul him forward. Crashing her lips against his, she kissed him as if her life depended on it. When they needed to come up for air she forced herself to open her eyes and that was the moment she'd jerked awake. Because this time she'd seen the face of the stranger clearly, recognized the blue eyes in an unfortunately far too familiar face. The face of a man she had no right to want, a man she couldn't have.

_Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it._

These words, at least, were accurate. Father Jones' words in the dream definitely hit the nail on the head. She was not handling this whole situation well at all.

The pounding in her temples started up again, making her groan and putting her head down on her desk. If she didn't manage to get a good night's sleep very soon she needed to go to the doctor to get something for the headaches that kept plaguing her. Then that doctor would probably send her to see a psychiatrist to find a reason for her strange dreams. Easier said than done though, since their town's psychiatrist, Dr. Archibald Hopper, had disappeared two weeks ago without a trace. His dog had been found deep in the woods, barking like mad and running around the same spot in circles as if his owner might reappear right out of the earth at any moment.

Sighing deeply, she reached for the file about Dr. Hopper's disappearance, hoping that she might find something new that she'd missed in the sparse facts the first five times she'd poured over the file before. But all she managed to do was to make her headache worse.

Emma contemplated for a few seconds if she should take some ibuprofen or get some coffee when the door to the station swung open and David walked in. In one hand he carried two coffees and in the other hand a bag with the logo of the town's donut place on it.

"That's exactly what I need right now," Emma exclaimed, rushing over to him and practically yanking the treats out of his hands.

He followed her slowly as she dropped onto the next available chair and ripped the bag open, letting out a soft moan when she saw he brought Boston Creams.

"You look like crap," David told her as he sat down beside her, pulling one coffee cup out of the tray to put it on the table beside her.

"And you talk to Mary Margaret with that mouth?" Emma mumbled around the bite of donut she'd just taken. Swallowing it down, she added, "No wonder she won't go out with you. Being a gentleman goes a long way with women. Believe me."

"First of all, I don't talk to Mary Margaret like that. You know that. I'm  _always_ a gentleman."

"Maybe that's the problem, then. Maybe you should just grab her and kiss her."

David just threw her an exasperated look, ignoring what she'd just said. "Second, I've never asked her out. And before you tell me that's my own fault because I'm too afraid of a rejection. You know why I haven't asked her yet."

"Yeah, I know," Emma said, stopping all the teasing as she saw the pained look on David's face.

David's divorce from Kathryn wasn't finalized yet. They'd only separated three months ago, and Emma did understand why David wanted to wait. But watching her two friends try to hide their feelings and make moon eyes at each other when the other wasn't looking was heartbreaking.

She leaned forward and squeezed David's hand in a silent show of her understanding. Even if she tended to tease him mercilessly sometimes, David knew she'd always have his back. They'd been friends and partners for a very long time.

David squeezed her hand back before settling back in his chair. When his eyes fell on the open file on Emma's desk he asked, "Find anything?"

"No," Emma sighed, looking at the file as if she hoped something might jump out at her. Of course it didn't. "Nothing. How is that possible? We didn't find anything at the scene. No signs of struggle. No blood. No nothing. Everything looked totally normal, other than Pongo going completely crazy."

"Maybe he just left for one reason or another?"

"Without Pongo?" Emma asked, clear skepticism tinging her voice. "Not likely."

"Yeah, he loves that dog way too much to do that."

"And that leaves us with…" Emma leaned forward and put her head on the table, closing her eyes as she groaned, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Emma jerked up when the door was suddenly yanked open and bumped into the wall with a loud thunk and in strutted one Mayor Mills. With her perfectly pressed business suit, her perfect hair without one strand daring to lie astray, and her perfect makeup, some days Emma wondered if the woman might go into a rage if she broke a nail. Her musings were interrupted when she detected the frown between the mayor's perfectly groomed eyebrows. Emma couldn't imagine what had put that frown on her face. Probably someone had the audacity to walk on the same sidewalk than her majesty. Before Emma could come up with more entertaining scenarios, Regina stepped into the station, her hand clamped tightly around someone's upper arm.

"Sheriff Nolan," the mayor barked, pulling the person harshly into the room with her. "I found this…" She threw a disgusted look over her shoulder at the man she'd dragged inside. "...person in the woods. Right where Dr. Hopper had disappeared. He'd told me an outlandish story why he was there, which made me bring him here. He's clearly acting suspicious."

The man just lifted one eyebrow at the mayor but refrained from defending himself in any way. Instead he stepped forward and held out his hand to Emma, a smile curling his lips upwards, including an adorable dimple. He was clearly a good-looking man, though the clothes he was wearing seemed kind of strange.

"Robin of Locksley, Ma'am."

"Robin of…you've got to be kidding me," Emma mumbled under her breath, pulling her hand back with more force than probably necessary. They were standing in the middle of a police station. This man might be crazy, but he hopefully wasn't crazy enough to attack her. "You definitely don't look like a fox."

"A fox?" The man's smile faltered, being replaced by a completely confused expression. "I don't understand."

"Never mind." Emma waved her ridiculous statement aside, trying to keep from blushing when Mayor Mills let out a scoff beside her.

"How about I'm handling that and you go home and get some much needed rest?"

David patted her shoulder, throwing her one of the looks they'd perfected over the years. This one was the 'crazy persons are my job' look. David had the patience of a saint, something that was required when dealing with delusional people. Emma just got annoyed with them way too easily.

"You look a little under the weather, Deputy Swan," Miss Mills said in a derisive tone. "Sheriff Nolan is right. You shouldn't spread your germs all over town. Some people have actually work to do around here."

All Emma's hackles rose up with the mayor's words, a sharp retort already making its way out of her mouth when she caught David's gaze over the mayor's shoulder. His barely-there head shake made her bite her tongue and swallow the words she wanted to say.

"Of course, Mayor Mills."

Miss Mills turned around sharply on one of her heels, throwing David an icy look. "I like to be present during the interrogation of Mr. Locksley here, Sheriff Nolan."

"It's not an interrogation," David replied calmly. "He didn't do anything illegal, did he?"

"Well, he did traipse through our forest, pretending not to know where he is."

"With all due respect, Madam. I don't lie," Mr. Locksley, or whoever he really was, interjected, another of his adorable dimpled smiles pulling his lips up as he added with a clear sparkle in his eyes, "Only if absolutely necessary."

"See, definitely suspicious," the mayor practically snarled. "I'm sure he's hiding something. Let's find out what, shall we, Sheriff Nolan?"

"After you, Madam Mayor."

Emma hastily grabbed her purse out of the drawer and rushed towards the door before Regina decided that she needed Emma present for what seemed to be a very uncomfortable interrogation. Not that she felt really sick. But she didn't envy David at all. She might even try to catch some germs on her way home to soothe her guilty conscience for taking the barest hint of an excuse to escape that tense situation.

When she opened the door she took in a deep breath of the wonderfully fresh air. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head up to the sun for a few seconds, the sun's warm rays helping to relieve the tension between her shoulder blades as she started to walk down the street towards their apartment.

Maybe she could make good use of the free afternoon and see if Henry wanted to get some Rocky Road ice cream and enjoy the sun with her at their favorite place down at the pier. She was sure Henry was up for some people watching and story spinning. His stories were always entertaining since he had a vivid imagination and liked to come up with the most fantastic tales about random people. His stories about the Jolly Roger were always the best. Her son clearly loved his pirate stories.

When she reached their apartment complex Emma took two steps at a time, hastening up the stairs to Mary Margaret's third floor apartment. When she ended up at the door a little bit too winded, she promised herself to spend some more time at the gym, otherwise Leroy might be able to slip through her fingers one day while on one of his drunken rampages. That definitely couldn't happen. She'd be the laughingstock of the whole town for weeks.

She knocked once before using the keys Mary Margaret had given her a while back, insisting that Emma needed a set for emergencies and flower watering. Not that Mary Margaret had ever left town since Emma had known her, but she was of the firm belief that you had to pick your fights and arguing over a set of keys was definitely not worth it.

A grin pulled at her mouth when she saw Henry bent over his homework at the kitchen table, his tongue poking out of his lips as he concentrated on whatever he was working on. Once again she thanked their lucky stars or whatever good fortune that had brought Mary Margaret into their life only days after Emma and Henry had arrived in Storybrooke. Emma hadn't looked forward to the search for someone who could watch Henry in the afternoons. Fortunately, she didn't have to look at all. She'd met Mary Margaret when she brought Henry to school for his first day, asking his teacher if she knew of someone who could look after her son. Mary Margaret had smiled at her and told her she'd be happy to take care of Henry while Emma was working her shift at the police station. The arrangement was perfect since Emma and Henry only lived one floor beneath Mary Margaret, and Henry loved his teacher. He didn't complain even once about being old enough and not needing a sitter.

Emma walked over to her son and ruffled his hair before leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead. Henry swatted at her hand, the exasperated expression that flickered over his face making her almost laugh.

"Hey, kiddo."

"Hi, Mom," Henry replied, not even looking up from his homework.

"Where is Mary Margaret?" Emma asked, a frown building between her brows as she looked over the apartment, wondering where her friend was. Normally she was either sitting right beside Henry helping him with his homework or she was bustling around in the kitchen. But today the apartment was eerily quiet.

"I'm here," a raspy voice came from the direction of the couch, her friend's head appearing over the back a second later.

She looked horrible. Her eyes were glassy and her face quite pale. Her fingers shook as she curled one hand around the leather to push herself up.

"Woah, you don't look so good."

"I'm feeling a little under the weather." Mary Margaret's face got even paler when she sat up completely. "But I need to get up anyway."

Suddenly her son decided to take part in the conversation and exclaimed, "There's a bake sale at the church. Miss Blanchard made cookies for it." His eyes practically sparkled as he licked his lips. "She gave me one. They're delicious. I'm sure they'll be gone very quickly."

"You need to go out again?" Emma asked, dread curling in her stomach when she looked her friend over. There was no way she could let Mary Margaret go out in her state. But that meant she actually had to deliver the cookies. To the church, where she would definitely run into a certain priest she'd been avoiding for the past three weeks.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

"You should stay put," Emma told Mary Margaret, accepting the inevitable with an internal sigh. "Henry and I can take the cookies to the church."

"No, I'm fine. I can get them there myself."

Emma watched her friend trying to get up from the couch for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and pushing her gently back to lie down again. "You're not going anywhere."

She'd expected an argument, but when Mary Margaret just slumped back on the couch and closed her eyes, Emma knew she'd made the right decision by biting the bullet. It wouldn't kill her to take the cookies to the church. It should only take a few minutes. In and out. She should be able to handle being in Father Jones' presence for such a short time without embarrassing herself in any way.

Yep, piece of cake.

After making sure that Mary Margaret had everything she needed, Emma took the box of cookies from the sideboard and shooed Henry out of the door. On their way to the church Henry told her excitedly about his day at school, then jumped right into one of his stories about a man he saw this morning feeding the ducks. Fortunately, his chatter distracted her enough so that she could ignore the dampness of her palms and the queasy feeling in her stomach.

She'd be fine. No big deal.

_In and out, Swan. Just a few minutes. You can do it._

* * *

The mewling sounds from the corner of his office broke Killian's concentration again, and he couldn't help but smile as he looked at the fluffy balls of fur falling all over each other. He'd found the litter this morning on the church's steps, his heart going out to the little cats immediately. He'd heard stories about people leaving animals and even babies in front of a church, hoping the church could provide them with the care they needed. He should be glad that he hadn't found a baby. He wouldn't have known what to do with a small human being. Kittens were way easier to handle. He'd taken them into his office in the basket they'd been in and after a quick search of the internet he'd gone on a supply run to get everything these small animals needed until he could find homes for them.

A hissing sound made him look closer and he grinned when he saw one of the kittens push another one with its tiny nose, its tiny teeth bared in an adorable snarl. Maybe he would keep one for himself. This black one with the white paws was definitely cute.

He pushed himself up from his chair and walked over, leaning down to grab the kitten in question and lift it into his arms. It immediately snuggled against his chest, kneading his forearms with its paws.

"You're a little scoundrel already, aren't you?" The kitten answered him with a yawn, looking up at him with an expression on its tiny face that melted his heart. He adjusted it on his prosthetic hand to scratch it between its ear with his fingers. "I'll find good homes for all of you," Killian murmured into the fur of the kitten, smiling when it let out a soft purr and scratched its head against his shoulder before butting its head against his fingers, apparently eager to get petted some more.

A knock at the door startled him, but before he could say anything the door opened and a young boy rushed in. His eyes immediately fell to the pile of kittens in the corner and without addressing Killian, the lad hurried over to them.

"Mom, look," he said over his shoulder, going down on his knees beside the basket. "Kittens."

Killian ignored the kitten currently trying to claw its way through his shirt to see who the boy was talking to. When he saw the woman entering his office seconds later, his breath caught in his throat, his heart suddenly beating erratically.

It was  _her_. God, she was so beautiful.

Emma shot an apologetic smile in his direction before turning towards the young lad who was trying to pet all the kittens at once.

"Henry, leave the kittens alone."

"But, Mom. Look at them. They're so cute."

Apparently the woman who'd never been far from his thoughts day and night had a son. Questions assaulted his brain instantly. Where was the father? Who was the father? Was she married? Henry must be about twelve years of age. Emma didn't look as if she were over thirty yet. Did that mean she had Henry when she was still a teenager?

He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from letting the questions spill free. It was none of his business anyways. They weren't friends – they'd only seen each other for a few minutes at Granny's Diner. It wasn't as if he had any romantic interest in her either. Well, none that he could pursue openly, as he was a priest after all. Having dreams about her and fighting a battle with his baser biological urges every day was bad enough.

"So we're just barging into other people's offices and forgetting all our manners?" Emma asked her son, yanking Killian out of his spiraling thoughts about the woman who just made him more curious the more he got to know about her.

"Sorry, Mom." Henry jumped up and walked over to Killian, stretching out his hand. "I'm Henry Swan. It's nice to meet you, Father Jones."

It took Killian a few seconds to free his hand, positioning the kitten carefully in the crook of his arm before taking Henry's outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you, too, Mister Swan."

Henry beamed up at him, clearly pleased to be called mister. "Are these all your kittens, Father?"

"I found them on the doorstep this morning. For now they're mine. But I need to find a home for all of them," Killian explained, seeing the excitement wash over the lad's face when he mentioned giving the kittens away. "Might keep this one though." He stroked one finger down the kitten's back, smiling when it arched into the touch. "It already seems very attached to me."

"Mom, can I have one?" Henry asked excitedly. "Please?"

"Henry, I don't think we can."

Henry had crouched down beside the basket again, reaching carefully for one kitten and lifting it into his arms. "But look at that one. It looks like Rocket."

Henry held the kitten up for his mother's inspection and Killian had to hide his smile. The lad was right. The kitten had raccoon eyes. Killian might not have the time to watch much TV, but he had to admit that the Marvel superhero movies were a guilty pleasure of him. Of course he knew which character Henry was talking about. After all, Guardians of the Galaxy was one of his favorite movies.

"Henry, we talked about not being able to have any pets."

"But it's only a kitten. We don't have to walk it several times a day and it can stay at home alone. We just need to buy a litter box for it and I'm sure it won't get much dirt in the apartment." Henry cradled the kitten against his chest, burying his face in its fur for a moment before he looked up at his mother and pleaded, "Please."

"I…" Miss Swan looked away from her son and met Killian's gaze, clearly seeking his help.

"It still needs a lot of attention, Henry," Killian said, trying to explain to the lad that having a kitten wasn't as easy as he seemed to think. "Especially in the first few weeks."

"I can give him all the attention it needs," Henry said with utmost conviction in his voice.

The kitten chose this exact moment to poke out its tiny tongue and lick all over Henry's fingers before burying its tiny head into Henry's neck, making the boy giggle. Kilian saw Emma's shoulders slump, a soft expression flickering over her face as she watched her son. It wasn't hard to see the exact moment when Emma gave in. Her lips opened on a silent sigh before her eyes found his and he whispered a silent 'sorry' over her son's shoulder. She narrowed her eyes at him for a second, but then her lips curled up in a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

"All right, all right. You win." Her words elicited a loud whoop from her son. "If Father Jones is okay with it, we'll be taking it home."

"Father Jones?" Henry turned towards him, looking at him pleadingly. The lad definitely knew how to use the whole 'puppy dog eyes' routine to his advantage. No wonder Emma had given in so easily. "Can we have it? I'll take good care of it. Promise."

Killian looked up at Emma for guidance, not wanting to undermine her with his answer. But she just rolled her eyes at him and nodded. "Sure, Henry. It's yours if you want it."

"Do you hear that, Rocket?" Henry held the kitten up before his face, letting out another giggle when the kitten mewled softly and wiggled in Henry's hands, his tiny paws swirling around frantically. "I can take you home with us."

"All right, then." Emma sighed, lifting her eyes to his again. "Can you give us some pointers on what we need to buy for the kitten?"

"Aye, I made a list this morning." Killian turned towards his desk and reached for the paper he'd printed out a few hours ago.

Emma stepped closer, her arm brushing against his as she leaned forward. The innocent motion stole his breath, goosebumps running over his body as he tried to hide his reaction to her being so close to him. He felt like a teenager whenever Emma was near, as if he were sixteen again with his first crush on a woman. Milah had been twice his age, but he hadn't cared. Of course, Liam had made fun of him the moment he'd found out.

The thought of Liam made his missing hand throb with phantom pain as his heart squeezed in his chest. Liam had been dead for fifteen years now, but thinking about his big brother still hurt. He'd adored his brother, never left his side for long when he was home, wanted to be just like him when he grew up. He wanted to follow in his brother's footsteps, had already looked into how to become an officer in the Special Boat Service, the British equivalent of the Navy Seals here in America. But then the boating accident happened and he'd lost his big brother and his hand. His dreams had been shattered in mere minutes, and sometimes he wondered if he'd really managed to come back from it.

Shaking off the dark thoughts, he held the paper out to Emma, her fingers brushing against his as she took it. Their gazes collided and suddenly time seemed to stand still, Henry's excited chatter fading into the background. All he could concentrate on was Emma's eyes, the mesmerizing green irises and the small brown ring around her pupils. He wondered if her eyes changed color with her emotions. How would they look when she was angry? Or aroused?

Thankfully, Henry broke the spell when he tugged at his mother's arms to show her how big Rocket's paws were in comparison to the rest of his body. Killian shifted on his feet, wondering if it would be too conspicuous if he lowered the kitten to his midsection to hide his half-hard cock. How was it possible that this woman elicited such extreme reactions from his body with only one innocent touch?

"Thank you, Father Jones." Emma stepped back then, leaving him feeling bereft of the contact and relieved that they weren't touching anymore in equal measures.

"So," he croaked out, feeling heat creep into his cheeks when his voice broke over the word. He needed to get a grip before making a fool of himself. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Miss Swan? I don't imagine you developed the gift of clairvoyance and came here because of the kittens."

"No, right." She blushed, the redness of her cheeks making it impossible for him to get his cock to behave. Bloody hell.

"So why did you come?" Killian asked, hoping her eyes wouldn't wander down his body and see the bulge his pants clearly couldn't hide. Thankfully, she didn't. She just threw him an apologetic smile and held up the box in her hand.

"Mary Margaret, ahem, Miss Blanchard is sick. She wanted to bring the cookies for the bake sale herself, but I convinced her that I can take them to you."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Please give her my best wishes."

"Will do, Father. We'll leave you to it." She turned around and gestured to Henry to get moving. "Let's go, Henry."

"Miss Swan?" He grinned when she turned around to him with a questioning look on her face. It pleased him to no end that she apparently wasn't immune to the chemistry sizzling between them every time they met either. She was clearly as flustered as he was, since the box of cookies was still in her hand. "The cookies?"

"Right. Of course."

She thrusted the box in his direction, the color in her cheeks deepening even further when she realized that he couldn't take it while the kitten was still in his arms. With a low chuckle she leaned forward and put the box on his desk, brushing up against his body again. He gritted his teeth as another wave of lust washed over him. This was getting completely out of hand.

"Have a nice day, Miss Swan," Killian said, hoping his voice didn't betray his inner turmoil.

"You too, Father," Emma murmured, avoiding his gaze. And then she practically ran out of his office.

Killian leaned back against his desk, letting out a deep breath when the door clicked shut behind her. This woman was becoming a huge problem for him.

He wanted her. And he didn't know how to quench that particular thirst.


	4. Perpetual Adoration

Emma didn't really know why she was in front of the church in the middle of the night. She should be at home lying in bed or watching some of the shows clogging up her DVR. That was what she normally did when Henry was at a sleepover, especially when she had the next day off. But instead she was here doing something completely ridiculous. And it was all Mary Margaret's fault. If her friend hadn't told her that she did her best thinking during the so-called Perpetual Adoration, she definitely wouldn't be here, though why that brought her to the steps of the church was anyone's guess. Because finding any solace in the adoration of the Eucharist…that was such utter crap, right? Keeping watch over a nonliving object. Of course, she realized that it was just symbolic. But still, Mary Margaret had only told her about it after Emma had poured her heart out about how their current case, or more accurately, cases, were driving her nuts.

The last three weeks had been hell. First, Dr. Hopper disappeared and then Robin of Locksley, or whatever his name actually was, appeared with a truly ludicrous story about coming from another world. Not that he could tell them much more – he couldn't remember anything besides that, other than the weird dreams he had. The moment David mentioned that tidbit to her, Emma actually had to bite her tongue to not blurt out that Robin could join the club. Saying that would have inevitably led to David asking her questions she didn't want to answer. But that wasn't even the half of it. Ten days ago, Leroy had disappeared. Exactly like Dr. Hopper, without a trace. And then just a few hours later Ruby dragged in a woman who called herself Mulan. That woman had told them almost the exact same story as Robin. Dr. Hopper and Robin she could shrug off as weird coincidences, even if she didn't really believe in coincidences. But then Leroy and Mulan? No, she couldn't ignore the parallels. This whole case was just a major disaster.

Hence why she was currently standing in front of the church, hoping for some divine sign to help her find out the truth. Even if she didn't believe in God at all, just sitting in the quiet church and letting her mind wander might do the trick. They were only going round in circles on this investigation, and she was desperate. Desperate enough to even try the most ridiculous things.

Emma opened the side door slowly, slipping in without a sound, careful not to let the door slam shut after she was through. Her law enforcement side frowned about the fact that the church was open all night – anyone could enter. If there had been a twenty-four-seven watch, if there were one person always present in the church, it probably wouldn't rankle her so much. At least the priest could put a combination lock on the side door, not that Emma thought she would have much success suggesting it. Apparently Storybrooke lacked the truly desperate criminals and those who didn't give a fuck about the sanctity of a church, or maybe all the inhabitants of this small town somehow still respected the house of the Lord, because she'd never heard of any of the statues or anything else of value going missing from the church during the hours of the night.

Still, the open door gave her a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach and she looked around, her gaze scanning all the shadowy corners to make sure no ill-meaning person was hiding in there. Biting down a scoff, she shook her head at herself. She definitely watched too much true crime TV if she seriously expected someone to jump her in the church.

Walking slowly down the aisle up to the altar, she needed to admit that the quiet of the church at night had a soothing effect on her mind. Maybe coming here hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

Stopping at the front pew, she slipped in and sat down, the stillness enveloping her completely. She could even swear her heartbeat slowed down. Letting her mind wander, she hoped inspiration would strike her and help her with their case. But instead her mind drifted to the person she'd tried to stop thinking about. Though it shouldn't be a surprise, considering that she was sitting in his house, so to speak.

Her thoughts drifted back to the day she came to deliver the cookies and they ended up taking a kitten home. Even now her heartbeat accelerated at the mere thought of the way Killian had cradled the kitten in his arms. Not to mention the goosebumps that had erupted all over her body every time she accidentally brushed up against the priest. It was ridiculous that these completely innocent touches had thrown her so much. But they had. And if she was honest with herself, the memory itself threatened to pull her mind right back into the gutter that was never far gone every time she let herself think about the hot priest.

Sighing silently, she tried to force her mind to concentrate on the problem at hand but didn't succeed. She finally gave up, but pushed her brain to stop having indecent fantasies about how good the priest might be in bed and let her mind drift towards the other thing that had thrown her for a loop that day.

His prosthetic hand.

Not that she was repulsed in the slightest by the thought of his left arm ending in a stump. But the fact that she hadn't realized he was missing a hand when she first met him at Granny's diner told her more than she liked. Normally she was way more observant, would have seen the way he moved his left arm just a little differently than his right. Not realizing it right away...it wasn't a good sign at all. It showed her how much meeting him had thrown her off balance.

She didn't like feeling this rattled by a man. She'd built up certain walls for a very good reason. Letting anyone behind those walls just ended in hurt. Neal had taught her that all those years ago. At least that hurt had brought her Henry, and she wouldn't give up her kid for anything. But loving Henry was easy. Letting herself fall in love with a man was something completely different, and she'd vowed to never ever let a man be the center of her world again.

And look at her now. One look at a certain priest, and her hormones had gone haywire, plunging her into an abyss full of dirty thoughts and wet dreams. No matter how often she told herself that Killian was off-limits in more ways than one, she still couldn't keep her mind from coming back to him over and over again. Being attracted to him was bad enough, but she could have dealt with that without any problem. What made it so much harder was the fact that she likedhim.

Seeing him with the kitten in his arms, the way he knew exactly how to talk to her son to make him feel welcome...it made her heart skip in her chest. Her heart wasn't allowed to do that. But seriously, how could she not melt into a proverbial puddle on the floor when his long fingers had brushed down the kitten's back, the purr that had rumbled out of the kitten's throat making her knees go all weak? God, what she wouldn't have given to feel his fingers trailing down her spine at that moment.

Of course her mind had completely shut down when she'd brushed up against him, her body bursting into flames of hot lust when she'd just stared into his blue eyes. It had taken too much effort to keep herself from leaning forward and pressing her lips against his to find out if they were as soft as they looked. Thank God Henry had chosen that moment to interrupt them, reminding her where she was and how bad wanting to kiss the priest was.

But she wasn't here because of Killian. She was here as a last resort, welcoming the solitude the quiet church gave her. She could only hope that the late hour would prevent any priestly sightings.

Taking a deep breath, she forced her mind to go over the case files, turning all the facts back and forth in the hope something might jump out at her that she'd overlooked thus far.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't hear someone approaching her until a man suddenly sat down beside her, startling her so much that she feared her heart might break one of her ribs with how hard it was beating in her chest. It took her only a second to recognize the man, and the accompanying adrenaline rush from his appearance quieted down almost instantly.

"I didn't expect to find you here in the middle of the night, Miss Swan."

"I hope it's okay," Emma replied, trying to get her wildly beating heart to slow down again.

That proved to be a little more difficult than she'd hoped when looking at the man sitting beside her. He was wearing a long-sleeved henley and sweatpants, and she'd never seen him so casually dressed. It played havoc with her body. A picture jumped into her mind of him pulling the sweatpants down and wearing tight, black boxer-briefs underneath that didn't hide the ridge of his probably delicious cock. She had to bite her tongue to keep the moan in check that threatened to escape from her mouth.

"Of course it is," Father Jones assured her, thankfully unable to read her mind and see all the dirty thoughts she had about him. She needed to be grateful for small favors. "It's just...I've never seen you attending mass before. Nor have you ever appeared at confession."

Oh, believe me, Father. My confessions would turn the tips of your ears bright red.

Emma almost said it out loud and wouldn't that be a small catastrophe? She'd never be able to look him in the eyes again.

"I just assumed that if not an atheist that you weren't overly religious."

"Mary Margaret told my about this whole Perpetual Adoration thing and our case is stuck right now, so I thought why not come here and see if just sitting in a quiet church would do the trick," Emma tried to explain why she'd come to the church in the middle of the night. "Right now, I'm willing to take some desperate measures to find any lead at all. Even if it means sitting in a church."

His mouth twitched as if he was trying not to smile and Emma almost rolled her eyes at him. But that seemed to be too flirtatious, and she definitely didn't want to flirt with the priest. Dirty thoughts aside, she shouldn't tempt fate.

"I see," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement while his mouth lost the fight against a smile and curled into a lopsided grin that did very weird things to her stomach. She tried to ignore the reaction of her body to his presence and forced herself to concentrate on his words and just his words. Not that it really helped with the attraction she felt for him, since his accented voice just upped the arousal coursing through her body, no matter that the actual words were nothing but normal conversation. "You are talking about the case involving the strange disappearances and appearances, correct?"

Emma wasn't surprised that the priest knew about it. The whole town knew about it. It was hard to hide the fact that citizens kept disappearing while strange people popped up out of nowhere all over town.

"Yeah, and we're finding absolutely no explanation for them."

"Did you ever consider a supernatural cause?"

"What? Like some kind of monster? Or alien abduction?" Emma barely suppressed the disbelieving scoff that threatened to slip out of her mouth. "Don't tell me you saw a UFO."

"Well, no," the priest replied, his mouth curling up into another lopsided smirk that shot a shiver down her spine, making it that much harder to ignore the attraction she felt for him. But when the light of the candles on the altar caught in his eyes and showed the mischievous flicker accompanied by a flash of white teeth as he grinned, she just couldn't ignore the white-hot heat that coiled in her stomach and sent a pulse of lust right between her legs.

"But I do believe in God and his son, the Savior. So aye, I have no problem believing in things I can't see with my own eyes. There are more things between heaven and earththan are dreamed of."

"Shakespeare, huh?" Emma cocked an eyebrow at the priest, letting her disbelief tinge her voice as she added, "No offense, Father. But I don't believe in mythical creatures. I just believe in facts."

"The story you told me…there seems to be only one explanation for it."

"And what explanation would that be? Enlighten me, Father. Because I have no clue."

"What if different worlds exist? What if science fiction isn't fiction at all, just science we haven't discovered yet? What if there are different universes?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Emma scoffed, ignoring the voice in her head that tried to tell her that he did have a point, even if it was a stretch to think of different universes existing at the same time.

"Why? Just take Occam's Razor, for example. The simplest answer is usually the correct one."

"The only thing that proves is that you're one literate priest."

"Just think about this possibility for a minute, Miss Swan." His voice got deeper, his accent making the words sound more delicious than they should. She was going to blame the late hour for her ridiculous thoughts. Instead, she let herself revel in his voice washing over her, for once ignoring the far too rational side of her mind and tried to open her mind to something different. "For whatever reason, the veil between the universes has thinned. Certain spots are more translucent than others. Maybe Dr. Hopper and Leroy happened to find those spots by mistake and wandered into another universe while Robin and Mulan came to ours."

"That's…a load of crap," Emma snapped, unable to believe in these kind of things even if just moments ago she was willing to try. But his theory was just too outrageous to even contemplate it being true. "Excuse my language, Father."

"No offense taken," Killian said calmly. "But God works in mysterious ways. Maybe he created more than one world."

His fingers suddenly curled around hers and he squeezed them for a moment before letting go. That short contact threw her into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. And where did she get off about thinking of him as Killian and not Father Jones? She should put a lid on that particular Pandora's Box right this second before she did something she would regret.

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe in God," she replied, shifting a little to the side to put some distance between them without making it too obvious. "I would rather believe magic exists than in God, to be honest."

"Then maybe it's magic. You should keep your mind open to the improbable, Miss Swan. Only then will you be able to see what others might overlook."

"It's way too late for this kind of conversation. Other universes and magic?" Emma shrugged her shoulders, holding her hand up to cover her mouth when she couldn't keep a yawn from escaping. "I really should go home and get some sleep."

"Before you go…I have something for you." Killian stood up and gestured in the direction of his office. Emma was way too tired to find an excuse to not follow him. Not to mention that she'd given up on not calling him Killian in her head.

"One kitten is definitely enough," she told him as she followed him down the aisle.

"No, not another kitten." He chuckled when he opened the door to his office. He stepped towards his desk and pulled out a drawer, searching inside for a few seconds before pulling something out that looked like a small locket on a chain. He walked back towards her, opening his hand and letting the chain uncurl, catching the locket with his prosthetic hand so that she could have a look at it.

"Who is this?" Emma asked, knowing what it was without having to be overly religious. She'd seen saint lockets a few times before. She didn't know why Killian wanted her to have one, though. She just told him that she didn't believe in God. That should include saints, too.

"Saint Anne, the Patron Saint of Mothers," he said softly, letting the chain and locket drop into her outstretched hand. Emma didn't even know when she'd opened her hand, but apparently she wanted to take his gift even if she believed it was a bad idea to take anything of meaning from him. It just would make it even harder to ignore the attraction she felt for him. But how should she resist, when he was looking at her like that, with his blue eyes boring into her as if he was seeing more than she wanted to show him and his voice so low that she needed to strain her ears to understand his words? It made the whole conversation feel way too intimate. "I know you don't believe in God and probably not in saints either. But you can look upon her just as an extraordinary woman who might lend you a modicum of her strength while you try to figure out who or what your perpetrator is."

"Thank you," Emma whispered, curling her fingers around the locket as if she were afraid he might take it away from her again if she didn't hold on to it as tightly as she could.

"You're welcome," he replied softly, his fingers brushing over her closed fist and shooting shivers down her spine when he took a step back. "Good night, Miss Swan."

"Good night, Father Jones."

The locket dug painfully into the palm of her hand when she turned around and walked out of the office. But she welcomed the pain, centered her mind on it to keep herself from turning around, throwing herself at the priest and kissing the living daylights out of him.

That wouldn't do.

That wouldn't do at all.

* * *

Killian walked into a dark cavern, stepping to the edge of the small ledge. He avoided looking down into the deep abyss, focusing instead on the pillar of stone in the middle with a cage on top. He knew the man in the cage, his heart constricting in his chest when their eyes met, but he didn't say a word. Instead he turned around to a blonde woman who'd stepped onto the ledge with him. A blonde woman he tried not to think about too much. But here she was, looking as beautiful as ever. He knew he was here to reveal his darkest secret, a secret he didn't really want to say out loud. But he had to.

"I kissed Emma," he said softly, keeping his eyes on the woman who looked at him with wide eyes, a flash of fear flitting over her face before she straightened.

"But it was just a kiss," she said, a hint of accusation in her tone. "How is this your darkest secret?"

Of course just saying he kissed her wasn't enough, an explanation was in order, so he took a deep breath and jumped right into the confession.

"It's what the kiss exposed. My secret is…I never thought I'll be capable of letting go of my first love. Of my Milah. To believe that I could find someone else. That is, until I met you."

Her mouth fell open in astonishment, her eyes boring into his. Did she believe him? Did she feel the same? Her expression didn't give anything away, and before he could say anything else the ground under their feet rumbled and stones appeared out of nowhere, clicking together to start a bridge towards the pillar of stone in the middle.

He turned around, taking a step towards her. He wanted to pull her into his arms, wanted to bury his face in her hair and just forget everything for a few precious seconds.

She closed the gap between them, her arm lifting and her hand hovering a few inches over his forearm and then…he woke up with his heart racing in his chest and his body drenched in sweat.

With shaking fingers, Killian pushed the sheet off his body and stood up, stumbling into the adjacent bathroom to splash some cold water into his face in hope of chasing the remnants of the dream from his thoughts. No such luck.

Emma was always on his mind, even in these weird dreams he'd been having ever since he came to Storybrooke. Walking slowly back into his bedroom, he dropped down onto the mattress, burying his face in his hand. Why did these dreams feel so real? Every single one of them felt more like a memory than a dream.

His thoughts drifted back to the conversation he'd had with Emma in the church a few hours ago. Maybe different worlds really did exist, maybe the Bible wasn't telling the whole truth. Maybe people actually were reincarnated, reborn. Like he told Emma...the simplest answer was usually correct.

And the simplest answer to the eerie connection he felt with Emma was that he'd known her before he met her. Known her from another life? Had they been together in a previous life? Was that the reason they felt drawn to each other? But what did that mean for this life? Was he supposed to give up the priesthood to be with her? Where they destined to be together? Was he fighting something that he wasn't supposed to fight?

These thoughts almost felt like blasphemy. Maybe Emma was sent to him by God to test his faith. Instead of talking himself into thinking being with Emma was the right thing to do, he should probably focus his mind on doing God's will. And God couldn't want him to shed the cloth and pursue a woman, could he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you so much for the comments and kudos. They show me that all the hours I spent writing this story were not for nothing. :-)**
> 
> **And to answer one question asked in the comments...the 'torture' will go on a little longer. This story is definitely a slow burn (or at least slowish) before we get to the 'good' stuff. :-)**


	5. Revelations

Killian kept himself busy over the next two nights by staying late in his office, hoping to see Emma in the church again. Tonight, he was thumbing through the Bible, hoping to find some inspiration for his next sermon. When he heard the side door of the church fall shut his heart skipped a beat, expecting to find Emma when he stepped into the sanctuary. Instead, he chased away the stab of disappointment when he saw the sheriff sitting in the first pew staring blankly at the altar. Chastising himself for being so foolish as to expect Emma, he straightened his back and walked slowly towards David. One of his parishioners was clearly in distress of some kind. And he was here to help anyone who needed it.

"Father Jones," David greeted him when Killian slipped into the pew.

"What brings you here in the middle of the night, Sheriff?"

The sheriff stayed silent for a few minutes before he turned his head and let out a long sigh. "Mary Margaret has told me about Perpetual Adoration. How it helps her center herself. I thought I might try it out."

A furrow appeared between David's brow. The intuition Killian had honed over the last years as a priest told him that something heavy was weighing on the sheriff's mind. Maybe the case that bothered Emma had brought him here, but Killian thought it was something else. Being a priest had sharpened his observational skills considerably. He'd seen the glances David shot in Mary Margaret's direction whenever the sheriff thought no one was paying him any attention. What Killian couldn't figure out was why David didn't try to talk to the woman about his feelings. Killian knew about the sheriff's divorce, so he wasn't bound to another woman anymore, at least not in the eyes of the law. Of course, only God could sever the connection between a woman and a man. But Killian knew that sometimes love changed and two people forcing themselves to stay together even if they didn't want to be together any longer wasn't the best course of action, even if the Bible said otherwise.

"The middle of the night might not be the right time for confessions, but if you need to talk I'm here to listen."

"I…" David trailed off, opening and closing his mouth without uttering another word.

"I wasn't always a priest, Sheriff," Killian said when he saw the sheriff struggling with voicing whatever was on his mind. Making himself more human had always done the trick in the past when a parishioner thought their problems were too mundane to tell a priest about. "I once loved a woman. Very deeply."

"What happened?"

"I lost her," Killian replied, feeling the familiar lump form in his throat. Even after all these years, thinking about Milah still cut deep. He knew he had never truly recovered from the loss. But that didn't mean he was the example everyone should follow, at least not in that regard. "There is nothing wrong with finding love more than once in life. If you're lucky to find it twice, you shouldn't throw it away."

"You believe in true love, Father?" David asked, cocking his head to the side. "In that one person that is your other half?"

An image of Emma flitted through his mind and he grit his teeth. "I believe that people are more resilient than they give themselves credit for. I think even after losing one love…" Killian gulped hard, his own emotions in complete turmoil as he tried to find the right words for David. "Aye, I believe you can find it again. I'm just not certain if such a thing as true love exists. One person who is your soulmate."

"But they might exist?"

"They might."

"I think I found her."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Killian asked, pushing the sheriff just a little bit, because how foolish did you need to be to throw away your second chance at love? "Tell her. And if she does feel the same way...never let her go again. No matter what obstacles you might face on your path together."

David stayed silent for a few minutes, the still-present furrow between his brows clearly indicating he was mulling over everything they talked about. But then he suddenly straightened his shoulders and a determined expression settled on his face.

"You're right, Father. Love is always worth fighting for."

* * *

"Here you go," Ruby said as she put the frosted pitcher of strawberry margarita on the table.

"Thank God," Emma replied, reaching for the pitcher and pouring herself a big glass.

Leaning back against the couch, she closed her hand around the cold glass, enjoying the contrast of the icy feeling against her palms and the warm blaze of the fire burning in the fireplace against the rest of her exposed skin. Letting out a sigh, she closed her eyes, wiggling her toes and just letting the stress of the last few days slip away. It wasn't always as easy to give herself a break, but a girl's night with great food, great drinks, and great conversation always did the trick.

When she opened her eyes Ruby grinned at her, held up her own glass of margarita and clinked it against hers before taking a huge gulp. Emma turned her head and smiled when she saw Mary Margaret cuddled in the armchair beside the couch, a blanket pulled tight around her as her lips closed around the straw sticking out of her glass.

This was what Emma had looked forward to all week, relaxing with her two best friends without having to be anywhere or having to think of anything serious in the next twelve hours.

Taking another sip of her cocktail, she turned her eyes to Ruby again. "Mulan doing all right?"

Ruby didn't answer her immediately, opting to finish her cocktail off first. Considering that her glass had been half full before she'd put it to her mouth all Emma's internal alarm bells started to ring. Even Ruby's voice sounded strange when she finally answered Emma's question, "Under the circumstances, she's doing okay."

"Why did you just hesitate?" Mary Margaret asked, clearly also picking up on Ruby's evasive answer.

"I didn't hesitate," Ruby exclaimed a little too forcefully, not even making eye contact with either of her friends.

Emma almost snorted a sip of margarita up her nose as she tried to suppress the laugher bubbling up her throat. "You're not fooling anyone here. Spill it."

"I...we…"

Emma took a double-take when Ruby started to stutter. Did her friend actually blush?

"Now I need to know everything," Mary Margaret blurted out, leaning forward in her seat, her eyes shining brightly with anticipation.

"Me too," Emma added, leaning back in the couch again to enjoy the juicy tidbits that would probably come out of Ruby's mouth. Ruby had never disappointed her on that front. Over the past few years, Emma had lived vicariously through some of Ruby's outrageous escapades.

"We had a long night at the diner a few days ago. Mulan was there and we started talking. One thing let to another and…"

"And?" Emma prodded, already knowing where this was going from the red staining her friend's cheeks.

"We might have kissed."

"Oh." Mary Margaret's eyes were round with surprise as she just stared at Ruby, clearly incapable of saying anything more.

"Well," Emma said cautiously, suddenly remembering that her friend was currently involved with someone else. "What about Victor?"

The blush in her friend's cheeks deepened, telling Emma that the next part of Ruby's story would be juicy.

"He caught us in the alley."

"Did he go on a rampage?" Emma asked, knowing that the doctor could be quite temperamental.

"Not quite," Ruby said, taking another huge gulp of her cocktail, her eyes flickering up to meet Emma's for a second before she averted her gaze to her lap again. Emma had never seen her friend so timid. Normally the juicier the story the more animated her friend got. But not this time. This time she put her cocktail glass on the table to buy herself some time before intertwining her fingers so hard that her knuckles turned white.

"Are you all right, hun?" Emma couldn't keep herself from asking, getting worried about the obvious distress Ruby was in.

"Yeah, I'm all right. It's just…" Ruby gulped hard before she straightened her shoulders and looked up again to face her friends. "He actually joined us."

"Wow, I did not see that one coming." Mary Margaret slumped back into her seat with a loud thump.

"Well, me neither," Ruby said sheepishly, a wary expression still lingering on her face.

"That's not all that happened, is it?" Emma asked, knowing there was more since the tension in Ruby's shoulders hadn't even eased a tiny fraction.

"No, we got…" Ruby's face was bright red by now, her voice barely more than a whisper when she said, "We got carried away and…we ended up in bed together. All three of us."

"Oh my goodness," Emma exclaimed, torn between letting out a whoop or shaking her head. Ruby was having sex with two people at once? She clearly needed some time to wrap her mind around that.

"Exactly," Ruby said, most of the tension leaving her shoulders as her mouth curled up into a smile.

"What happens now?" Mary Margaret asked her, a frown appearing between her brows.

"I have no clue. It was...God, it was indescribable. We just clicked. As if we were destined to be together." Ruby put her face in her hands and groaned out loud. "Oh my God, that sounds so corny."

"But you're all happy? You all want this?" Mary Margaret leaned forward, putting her hand on Ruby's in silent support. The last tension left Ruby as she turned her hand around and squeezed Mary Margaret's.

"We haven't really talked about it yet, but we've spent the last three days together. And nights." Ruby practically glowed by now and Emma felt a short jab of envy. But that didn't last long when her friend's eyes zeroed in on her. "But enough about me. Let's focus on someone else."

"My life is boring," Emma told her, leaning forward to fill her glass from the pitcher again. "Nothing to tell."

"So a certain priest isn't tuning your motor yet?"

"Ruby!"

"You're sleeping with our priest?" Mary Margaret blurted out, clear disapproval stamped all over her face. It figured that their school marm of a friend would be scandalized not by her friend involved in a threesome, but by the idea of Emma having sex with a priest.

"No," Emma stated vehemently, shaking her head in emphasis. "I'm not sleeping with the priest. Or anyone."

"But you want to," Ruby said, not even bothering to voice it as a question.

"No, I don't want to jump our priest."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire."

"Emma," Mary Margaret said softly in a concerned voice. "You know that can never happen."

"Of course I know that. Nothing happened between me and the priest, and nothing ever will," she said resolutely, wrapping her fingers tightly around her cocktail glass before deciding that diverting the focus from her would be a great idea. "So what about you and David? Explain to me once again why you two still aren't burning up the sheets together?"

Mary Margaret shot her a disgruntled look, raising the glass to her mouth and mumbling against the rim, "He hasn't asked me out yet."

"Maybe you should put on your big girl panties and make the first move? We're living in the twenty-first century. You're allowed to make your wishes known to the person your heart desires most."

Ruby looked at her suspiciously before eyeing the almost empty pitcher on the couch table. "How much margarita did you have? I can't remember the last time you waxed so poetic."

"Shut up," Emma growled, deliberately slurping up the rest of the drink in her glass, ignoring the dizzy feeling that wrapped around her brain and blurred her thought process.

"Another one?" Ruby asked as she stood up from the couch, swaying just slightly when she leaned forward to snatch the pitcher of the table.

"Yes," Emma and Mary Margaret both shouted with enthusiasm. Emma might end up with one hell of a hangover, but it'd be worth it. This girl's night was definitely turning out to be the best break she could have had from the stressful last few days.

And maybe the copious amounts of alcohol would prevent her from dreaming about a certain priest.

* * *

Killian almost let out a scoff when he went into the church an hour later and found another man sitting in the front pew.  _Must have something to do with the phase of the moon_.

The sound of his shoes clicked against the tiles of the center aisle and echoed loudly through the otherwise silent church, but the man didn't startle. He just sent a quick look over his shoulder before returning his gaze to the altar in front of him.

"Father," he said softly when Killian sat down beside him.

"Mr. Locksley," Killian greeted him, opting to not say anything else. In his experience, people always started to talk when they were ready. He was certain that the man had a lot on his mind, considering that he'd appeared out of nowhere with almost all his memories lost. He didn't have to wait long before Robin broke the silence.

"I hope you don't mind me being here," Robin spoke up, his shoulders tensing for a second before he let out a low sigh. "It's just…"

When Robin didn't continue right away, Killian said, "The church is always open for people who seek answers."

"What makes you think I'm seeking answers?"

"Isn't that why you're here?"

"Maybe." Robin shrugged his shoulders, a furrow between his brows as he clearly struggled to put into words what was going through his mind. "I just...you ever thought about why you're here? I mean not  _here_ here. Though in my case that's also a very valid question."

"I always thought that God put me on earth for a reason," Killian replied, remembering how turning to faith had saved him. "I hope that I'm able to help all the people who get lost on their way."

"That's why you become a priest?"

"Aye, one of the reasons."

"I don't belong here, Father. I can feel it in my bones. This...it might sound completely insane, but I don't think this...world is mine."

"Go on," Killian prompted, shifting in the pew so that he was fully facing the man beside him.

"It doesn't feel right," Robin said hesitantly. "Me being here. I feel like I should be somewhere else. That I need to be somewhere else. But still…"

"You're staying with the Mayor, correct?"

"Yeah, I am." Robin shook his head and chuckled softly. "And...she's driving me crazy. How can one single woman be so irritating?"

"Irritating how?"

"She is a perfectionist. Everything has to be done just so. I really think she doesn't want me in her space, but when I told her that I should maybe find other accommodations she nearly jumped down my throat." A small smile pulled Robin's mouth upwards, another chuckle slipping from his lips as he turned his head and looked at Killian. "But sometimes she's different. When she lets herself relax just a little bit, she's a very interesting woman. Irritating most of the times, but also quite...captivating."

Over his time as a priest, Killian had learned to read between the lines to be able to really help the people the way he wanted to. The man sitting beside him clearly showed all the signs of developing feelings for someone, feelings he might not want to have. Considering his situation, denying those feelings might be the wiser choice but not necessarily the right one.

"Sometimes we need to fight our feelings for various reasons. But sometimes, we fight them only because we're afraid to face those feelings." Killian smiled at Robin, watching conflicting emotions flitter over the man's face. "Which kind of fight do you think you're fighting?"

Robin stayed silent for a very long time before he responded, his voice so low that it was barely audible. "The latter."

"Maybe God sent you here for a reason? To find something you didn't even know you were seeking?"

"But I just met her. How can I…" Robin trailed off, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he gritted his teeth. "These feelings can't be true, can they?"

"Only you can answer that particular question," Killian replied, pondering where he should take the conversation. Robin was a stranger in this town, his memories scrambled, his origin unknown. But maybe Killian could help him see the light at the end of the tunnel. "Would it be so wrong to find the good in being here instead of just focusing on the bad?"

"I guess not." Robin pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, before letting out a deep sigh, his eyes meeting Killian's as he asked, "You think I should stop fighting?"

"It's not my decision to make."

Robin stayed frozen for a few seconds, kneading his fingers until he suddenly straightened his shoulders and jumped up.

"I need to go," he said hurriedly, stepping out of the pew. "Thanks for the talk, Father."

"It was my pleasure."

Killian suppressed a smile as he watched Robin hasten towards the exit. He was quite certain that Miss Mills was in for a hell of a surprise tonight. Judging by the determined look on Robin's face when he'd left the church, he was ready to act on his feelings.

When had he become such a matchmaker? If his gut feeling was right, two new relationships might bloom from the conversations he had this night.

Killian ignored the heavy feeling that tried to settle in his stomach when he again realized that he was fighting his own feelings for the right reason. He was a priest. He wasn't allowed to pursue a romantic relationship with a woman no matter how much he wished he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Many thanks as always for the kudos and comments. You all rock!**
> 
> **And about the slow burn ... we're gonna dip our toes into naughty territory at the end of the next chapter. Well, Killian will. :-)**


	6. Cementeries and Clearings

She was going crazy over this case, clearly. How else could she explain standing in the middle of the cemetery two days before Halloween? Not that she believed in ghosts or ghouls or zombies. She might enjoy watching 'The Walking Dead' from time to time, but wasn't worried about the dead coming back to life. She'd never been afraid of walking through cemeteries in the dark. She'd actually started going there when she was thirteen, sneaking out of the group home in the dead of night and walking to the nearest one - there was just something about the calmness that soothed her. The dead didn't expect anything from her, didn't look at her with pity, or jerk her around. They were just there. A quiet presence that helped her through the roughest times of her childhood, even if Emma herself was incapable of explaining why.

Whenever life had threatened to suck all the air out of her lungs and crush her, she went to a cemetery. She always found what she was looking for. Just spending an hour sitting in the grass between gravestones had helped her to find her inner strength again, that strength she needed to keep going, to hope for a better life. In the end she got the better life, even if it started with spending time in prison. She couldn't condemn Neal for that, not really. After all, without Neal she wouldn't have Henry. And she would never, could never, give up her kid. Maybe one day, when Henry was a little older, she would tell him about the weird connection she had with cemeteries. Their beauty couldn't be denied.

Fog sat low over and around the gravestones, its misty tendrils wrapping around each one like a lover. So many people were afraid of the ghosts believed to haunt these places, but all it brought her was calmness. She desperately needed calm after the sixth person just disappeared yesterday. They needed to find the reason for people disappearing without a trace and other people appearing out of thin air. And then they needed to find a way to stop it all. Hopefully, they'd be able to bring back their own people alive and help the others go back to wherever they came from. But first, she needed to find the cause of all this madness.

"Miss Swan, what are you doing at the graveyard at close to midnight?"

She couldn't keep herself from jumping in surprise when she heard his voice. She just didn't expect to meet anyone at this hour in the cemetery. Of course she should have expected the priest to keep an eye on the grounds, even if the hour should have had him dead asleep in his bed. But what did she know about his habits. Maybe he used the hour before midnight to write his sermons or to spend it in deep prayer and contemplation.

"I'm sorry for startling you."

"No problem." Emma shot him a sheepish smile. "Since I'm in your backyard. Sort of."

He smiled back at her, tilting his head as he said, "Not any closer to finding your culprit?"

"No, and cemeteries...it's a long story. But normally they help me think."

Emma expected him to dig deeper, to be interested in the long story. But instead he just said, "Anything I can help you with?"

"I don't know. Maybe." It couldn't hurt to have another pair of eyes looking at the map she'd created, marking all the spots people had disappeared or appeared. "Can we go inside? I like to show you something."

"Of course."

Emma followed him over the cemetery and up the steps to his small house. When they entered through the back entrance she looked around with what she hoped was some stealth, curious about how he lived. She didn't know what she'd expected, though. It looked like any other ordinary house, if cleaner than most.

"Let's have some tea, shall we?"

How British of him, Emma thought as they stepped into the kitchen. She couldn't help but grin when he opened a cupboard and pulled out a packet with loose tea instead of tea bags. How British indeed. Normally Emma wasn't much of a tea drinker, but since it was the middle of the night, some fruit tea was a better choice than putting more caffeine into her body.

"Sounds good."

While Killian was busy putting the kettle on Emma pulled the folded map out of her back pocket and dropped it on the table. Sitting down, she just watched Killian shuffle around in the kitchen, pulling out two mugs, putting a sugar bowl with brown sugar on the table and filling two tea bags with the loose tea leaves. When the kettle whistled, he poured water into the mugs before turning around to her.

"It needs to steep a few minutes. You can start filling me in on any new developments."

Before Emma could bring him up to speed a meow came from the hall and a moment later a kitten stalked into the kitchen.

"You kept one."

Emma slipped from the stool and crouched down, holding her hand out for the kitten. It came without hesitation, rubbing its head against her palm. She scooped it up and sat back down, scratching between its ears before she looked up at Killian.

"Aye, this little rascal wanted to stay." Killian leaned down to stroke over its back, his fingers brushing against hers for a second. A jolt rushed from her hand through her body, reminding her of the attraction she felt for him. An attraction that was totally unwanted, not that her body cared. When he straightened again and grinned at her, she groaned inwardly. "Meet Filou."

"Hello, Filou." The kitten let out an adorable purr and Emma buried her face in its fur until she got a grip on the sudden urge to bury her face somewhere else. Like against the neck of the man standing beside her. Trying to distract herself, she asked, "You found good places for all the others?"

"I did. They all found their homes."

"That's great."

Emma kept stroking the kitten, searching for something to say. But all she could think about was how the scruff covering his neck might feel against her skin, and if he'd taste as delicious as he smelled.

She wanted to bang her head against the table, wanted to scream out her frustration. Thankfully, Killian didn't seem to sense her internal struggle. He reached for the tea mugs and put them on the table, settling down beside her.

"So, about the case…"

"Right." Emma leaned sideways to put the kitten back on the floor, reaching for the map to unfold it. "Can I have four glasses?"

Killian's eyebrow rose up with her question, but he didn't inquire further. He just stood up again and stepped to the cupboard, pulling out four glasses and putting them on the table beside her. Emma spread out the map on his kitchen table, using the glasses as paperweights.

"This are all the locations people have disappeared or appeared. It feels like this should make sense somehow. I can feel it tickling at something in my brain. But even if I look at it until everything blurs I'm not able to grasp it."

Killian stepped closer, brushing up against her. Her libido – which had just shut up – went into overdrive again. But she just ignored it.

Priest. Off limits.

"Bloody hell." His curse pulled her out of her thoughts and back into the presence. "The devil is apparently in the details."

"Huh?"

"Can I draw on this?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

He pulled a drawer open and took out a pen, leaning over the map again and studying it for a few moments. Emma reached for her cup of tea, blowing on it to cool it down before taking a sip.

"If you connect all the spots people disappeared from…" He put the pen to the plastic covering the map, drawing lines between the different points to connect them. "You get this."

"A pentagram," Emma breathed out, totally gobsmacked. That was what had been nagging at her brain all the time. She knew the points weren't random. That there was some kind of deeper meaning in them. "So it's the devil's work?"

"Well, the devil or, more accurately, evil, comes in many forms."

"So we'll just cordon off the five points of the star and the points where the lines connect and the disappearing acts should stop, right?"

"Probably," Killian replied, tilting his head as he studied the map.

"And since the strangers only appeared when someone disappeared, that should stop, too."

A rush of relief washed over her that she finally could do something to hopefully stop people from disappearing into nowhere.

"You still don't know where our people disappeared to," Killian said, throwing her an apologetic glance that he couldn't do more for her. "But it's a first step."

She pushed the stool back and stood up, a wave of gratitude for the priest washing over her, making her voice slightly shaky as she said, "Thank you, Father Jones."

"It's Killian," he replied, averting his eyes to the ground and rubbing one finger behind his ear. A strange feeling sizzled through her body as she watched him, hiding her grin at his obvious nervousness. His eyes met hers again, a sheepish smile pulling the corner of his mouth up. "I mean in private, you could call me Killian."

"Only if you stop calling me Miss Swan," she told him, hoping the blush she felt rising into her cheeks wasn't that obvious. "It's Emma."

"Deal." White teeth flashed as he grinned broadly, the smile pulling at something deep inside of her, making her lock her knees to keep herself from crumbling to the floor, especially when he opened his mouth and spoke her name for the very first time, "Emma."

She felt her blush deepen when he said her name in his lilting voice, a shiver running down her spine as she turned away, busying herself with pulling the glasses from the corners of the map and folding it up again. Anticipation curled through her, her body itching with the need to jump into her car and going out immediately. Of course, she had to wait until morning to rally David and work on marking the spots the townspeople should avoid. Shoving the folded map into the back pocket of her pants, she looked up at Killian again, suppressing the urge to hug him tightly.

"Thanks again, Killian. You're literally a lifesaver."

"You're welcome, Emma."

Crouching down, she scratched Filou behind the ears. "Good-bye, Filou."

She straightened, making sure to not look Killian in the eyes again. She didn't know if she could keep herself from jumping him if she stayed one second longer. The priest was just too tempting. With a muttered good-bye to the man she couldn't stop obsessing about, she slipped out of the room, wondering how long it would take her to get used to him calling her by her given name. His deep voice would definitely haunt her in her dreams.

* * *

Killian scooped Filou into his arms, waiting for the door to click shut. Stepping to the window, he watched Emma until she disappeared into the fog, wondering what story was behind her not being afraid to traipse over a cemetery in the middle of the night. Personally, he loved being in the cemetery at night. He liked the thought of being surrounded by ghosts. Most other people were creeped out though, avoiding going there at all costs, not wanting to remember all the people they'd lost. He was certain Emma had lost people in her life, too. It was in her eyes, that pain you could see in the depths of another person's gaze. It was unmistakable if you knew what to look for. Maybe Emma would tell him her story one day. He would like to know what shaped her into the woman she was now.

Leaning against the counter, he kept staring out over the graveyard, letting his mind drift back to Liam. All the good years they'd had together. A smile formed on his lips as he remembered how Liam had loved to tease him mercilessly. Remembered his deep belly-laugh whenever Killian had gotten mad at his big brother. Especially when he'd called him little – every single time, Killian had insisted his brother should call him younger brother instead, but Liam had always only grinned at him, telling him that he was indeed taller than him.

Crouching down, he put Filou on the floor, pulling his sleeve up when he straightened again to unclip his prosthetic hand. He rubbed over the stump, the constant reminder of the loss of his brother. Every time he looked at his arm ending in nothing he remembered the accident that had cost him his hand and his brother. He wondered if it ever would stop hurting this badly. Maybe if he hadn't lost Milah just two years later, the hole in his heart would have healed sooner. But losing two people he loved deeply so soon after each other caused a pain he wasn't sure would ever go away.

But he'd found God. Found solace in being a priest. Helping people, serving God. It had to be enough. He would be satisfied with finding strength in his faith and the good he could do as a priest. One day the ache might not be that painful anymore.

* * *

David and she had sprayed a pentagram on the ground with a waterproof and biodegradable color two days ago to mark the spots people needed to avoid. They would cordon it off properly over the next week. Hopefully that was enough.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much else they could do right now. The newcomers seemed to settle in, accepting that for the time being they needed to stay here until they managed to find out where they came from and how to get them back.

Two newcomers in particular were integrating themselves into Storybrooke's population very fast. If Emma were honest, she had to fight a bit of envy every time she thought about them. Because apparently everyone was getting laid. Ruby was clearly deliriously happy with Mulan and Victor. Mary Margaret was practically glowing ever since David grew a pair and asked her out. And to top it all off, she even caught the mayor making out in an alley with Robin a few days ago. The  _mayor_.

The only one who wasn't getting any was her. Why was she the only one who needed to be satisfied with the occasional 'visit' from her battery-operated boyfriend and wet dreams about a certain priest she couldn't have?

"Mom, come on. We're gonna be late."

"Coming," Emma replied, rolling her eyes at her son's impatience. It wasn't as if the cabin would run away from them. It didn't really matter if they left the house twenty minutes later than planned.

The temperature was chilly, so she also grabbed beanies, scarves, and mittens for Henry and herself since the track to the cabin took a few minutes from the spot they could park the car and she didn't want to freeze her fingers or ears off.

Fifteen minutes later she parked the car at the side of the road and chuckled when Henry jumped out, almost tearing the old door off its hinges in his haste. She knew he loved being out here, but this kind of enthusiasm was new. Furrowing her brows, she stepped out of the car and gathered her things before following Henry through the woods. She would keep a very close eye on him today. Who knew what he was up to? With twelve-year-olds you never could be too careful.

"Henry, come over here for a second." He walked back towards her with a grumble, shifting impatiently from foot to foot as she pulled his scarf, mittens and beanie out of her bag. With an eye roll he took them from her and put them on. "Don't go too far. I don't want to start a search party."

"Mom," he practically whined, batting her hands away when she wanted to adjust his beanie. "I'm not a kid anymore."

"Then just humor me, all right?"

"Fine."

Satisfied that her son wouldn't get into any trouble while she checked over the cabin, she rounded the corner and walked towards the small fireplace in the back. The cabin belonged to the school, one of the richer parents had gifted it a few years back. They used it quite a lot over the summer months. Almost every weekend if the weather allowed it. Now, at the beginning of winter, no one was out there anymore. But it still needed to be checked out at least once a month to make sure that the cabin didn't have any leaks or that some animal had found a loose board and taken up residence in the much warmer cabin.

Mary Margaret had given her the key back when she'd been sick, asking her if she could just take a look to make sure everything was all right. Afterwards, Mary Margaret had wondered if she was willing to look after the cabin with her since the beginning of the school year was always the busiest time in the year. Emma didn't even hesitate to say yes. The cabin was just remote enough for it to be the perfect retreat if you needed an hour for yourself without anyone disturbing your peace.

She checked all the wooden logs they used for sitting down around the fire for rot, making sure all the nails were still buried in the wood and not jutting out. Nail scratches could be nasty, to say nothing of someone actually falling onto one. Emma didn't even want to think about that scenario. She checked every log meticulously until she was sure she hadn't overlooked anything before she walked back to the cabin door to check the interior. The air was a little stale, but that could be remedied quickly. She just pushed all the windows opened and let the crisp air from outside blow out the old. One look around told her that everything was fine in here, too. Just one chair was a little wobbly and one of the window frames was cracked. David would take a look at it when he had time. He loved to do woodwork whenever the police work allowed him to indulge that hobby. She would tell him at work tomorrow. She was just about to go outside to see what her son was doing when his voice came through the door.

"Mom? Could you come here for a sec?"

The tone of his voice shot dread and a not-so-small amount of fear through her as she rushed out of the cabin to see Henry standing at the edge of the clearing. He didn't seem harmed, but his posture suggested that he had done something Emma wouldn't approve of. When she stopped beside him, she was definitely sure she wouldn't like what he had to tell her. She'd seen that expression many times on his face over the last years. Contrite and apologetic and hopeful that she wouldn't rip his head off.

"What did you do?" Emma sighed, preparing for the worst.

"We need your help," Henry said, shifting from foot to foot, not meeting her eyes.

"We?" Emma questioned as she looked around, wondering who Henry was talking about. But when she looked back at her son again he just pointed upwards. Emma tilted her head and squinted up into the tree. It took her a few seconds until she discovered the small ball of fur with the telltale black around its eyes. "Why the heck did you bring Rocket with you?"

"I thought he'd enjoy running around in the woods."

"Well, I think enjoying isn't the right word to describe it."

She didn't even know how Henry had managed to sneak Rocket out of the house. He must have put him in his backpack. Strangely, she hadn't heard a peep from it the whole drive over. If she had, they wouldn't be in this predicament now.

"We have to get him down again," Henry pleaded with her, his worried gaze searching out Rocket again. "He's too scared to make it down on his own."

Emma sighed as she tilted her head to look up the tree. She might be able to reach the lowest branch with a jump. From there she should be able to pull herself up and finally get some use of all that upper body work one of the trainers in the gym was insisting on every time she was there.

"Father Jones," Henry suddenly screamed, almost scaring her to death. "Rocket climbed up this tree, and now he can't get down again. You can help him, right?"

Emma turned around, watching the priest walk over the clearing to join them. Once again, she noticed that black was definitely his color. He looked mighty fine...if you ignored the white collar around his neck. He stepped beside them and looked up, giving her son a reassuring smile when he met his eyes.

"I can certainly try."

"Maybe we should call the fire department," Emma suggested, not sure that either of them was able to climb that tree. She might not have enough strength and Killian would have problems to hold on with only one hand.

But he merely smirked at her before shrugging out of his coat and holding it out for her to take it. With efficient movements he rolled up the sleeve over his prosthetic, before stretching out his other arm towards her. "Could you lend me your hands, please?"

A zing of electricity zapped through her when her fingers connected with his skin. Gritting her teeth, she rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to his elbow, trying without avail to ignore the feel of his coarse hair under her fingers and the way his muscles jumped under her hand.

As she took a step back to put some much needed distance between them her eyes fell on the swirls of a tattoo covering his forearm and without giving it another thought the question was out of her mouth, "Who's Milah?"

She realized how intrusive her words were when she looked up at him and saw his grin vanish, a sad expression flickering over his face. "Someone from a long time ago."

She didn't want to press, the memory clearly a painful one. But she should say something. She just couldn't find the right words to cut through the tension. Thankfully, Killian just shrugged his shoulders before stepping under the lowest branch. Inhaling a deep breath, he bent his knees to build up momentum and jumped.

Emma could only ogle the play of muscles in his forearm when he pulled himself up one-handed. Not to mention the way his slacks stretched taut over his delectable ass. She wouldn't be surprised if drool trickled out of her mouth at any moment. But damn, he was really a good-looking man from top to bottom. With a speed she didn't think possible he climbed to where Rocket was pressed against the tree trunk, his voice taking on a soothing tone as he reached for the kitten. Surprisingly, Rocket went willingly, probably recognizing Killian's voice from the time he'd spent in his care. Emma was still amazed that he was so agile climbing that tree when he dropped down beside her.

"Here you go, Henry." He leaned down to put Rocket into Henry's arms, her son pressing the kitten protectively against his chest.

"Thank you," Henry whispered, burying his face in the kitten's fur. Rocket was trembling visibly, but when Henry stroked his fingers down its back the tremors subsided and the kitten started to purr softly.

"I have something for you, Henry."

Emma's heart skipped a beat when she saw Killian pull out a locket on a chain from his pocket. Damn this man. Why was he so perfect? And why the hell did he have to be a priest?

"What's that?" Henry asked curiously, eyeing the locket.

"A locket. It depicts a saint."

"What saint?"

"Saint Gertrude, the Patron Saint of Cats," Killian answered Henry's question, letting the chain dangle from his fingers for Henry to take it.

"Thank you, Father Jones," Henry said, fumbling one-handed with the chain to pull it over his head, since he couldn't use his other hand that was still firmly curled around Rocket's small body. "Do you have one yourself?"

"Aye," Killian replied, reaching under his shirt and pulling out a chain. "This is Saint Brendan, the Patron Saint of Sailors and Mariners."

Henry's face scrunched up in confusion. "But why do you have a locket of that saint? You're a priest, not a sailor."

"But I was a sailor before I became a priest."

"Did you meet pirates?" her son asked excitedly, his eyes lighting up with the hope of hearing some good pirate tales he could include in his cache of stories.

"I'm afraid not."

Killian still smiled softly when he met Emma's eyes, her heart skipping another beat. She could tell herself over and over again that the priest was off-limits, but her body kept betraying her, drawing her to him as if they were magnets that couldn't pull away from the force that wanted them to clash together.

"How about you go back to the car while I close up the cabin?" Emma said, putting her hand on her son's shoulder. "I think we've had enough adventures for one day."

Her son obeyed without complaint, probably wanting to go home to feed Rocket some catnip treats. She waited until her son was out of earshot before she faced Killian again, wanting to thank him for the rescue. But the words got stuck in her throat the moment she took a good look at him. His hair was tousled, his cheeks slightly flushed from the exertion and the way his forearms bulged when he crossed his arms over his chest made her mind drop straight into the gutter.

Maybe she could later blame his forearms for what she did next. She definitely couldn't explain what kind of devil possessed her when she put her hands on Killian's shoulders and got up on her toes to press her lips against his cheek. His scruff rasped over her lips, making her tingle all over as she let herself keep her mouth on his skin for a few more inappropriate seconds before stepping back.

"Thank you, Killian," she whispered, her lips still burning from the forbidden touch. She wanted to lift her hand and press her fingers against her mouth. Wanted to hold on to the sensation as long as possible. She bit her tongue as she met his gaze, the confused expression on his face, paired with the deep blush covering his cheekbones and the bright light of his blue eyes, making her want to step back up to him and kiss him for real.

It didn't help in the slightest when he opened his mouth and said in a low, hoarse voice, "You're welcome, Emma."

Practically throwing his coat into his arms, she turned around and walked briskly towards the cabin before she could do something terribly stupid. When she stepped out of the cabin again a few minutes later, she was very grateful to find the clearing empty. Who knew what she would have done if Killian had waited for her. But she still felt completely unsettled as she started to walk back to the car. Without conscious thought she lifted her hand to her mouth and brushed her fingers over her lips. She could swear she could still feel his scruff brushing over them. Groaning lowly, she dropped her hand and shook her head.

"You're in so much trouble, Swan. So, so much trouble."

* * *

It was a good thing that the alcohol concentration of rum was high enough that it couldn't go bad over time, since this bottle had been stowed in the bottom drawer of his desk for years. It was still three-quarters filled and he wondered if he'd be able to refrain from emptying it all during the next hours and risk alcohol poisoning, or if the feel of Emma's lips on his cheek would drive him to be this irresponsible.

Three tumblers later, he decided that a cold shower was in order to help him calm down, but he had only stood under the cold spray for about a minute when he reached for his cock. The alcohol clearly hadn't helped to bring his erection down, and even the cold water wasn't able to cool down his arousal. Killian dropped his forehead against the tiles and started to pump his cock through his fist.

Closing his eyes, he imagined Emma on her knees before him, her lips stretched wide to accommodate his girth, her tongue flicking over his slit every time he pulled out of her mouth. His cock jumped in his hand as he imagined pushing deep into Emma's mouth until his cock slid down her throat, the muscles of her throat closing around him as she swallowed.

It took him only a few more thrusts through his tightly closed fingers before he exploded, his cum shooting out of him and splattering against the tiles. He kept pumping his cock, ignoring the sensitivity of handling his cock so roughly because he was still coming. His balls were still pumping semen out of his cock and down over his hand, as if he couldn't get enough of filling Emma with his seed.

The only problem was that Emma wasn't here. He wasn't coating her throat with his cum or splashing his cum all over her face and breasts. He was only jerking himself off to images of her.

Something he shouldn't do. Because he couldn't have her, not even in his fantasies.

Tilting his head up, he let the water cascade down over his face and body, washing away the remnants of the earth-shattering climax he'd just experienced. The water pounded on his head for a few more minutes as he tried to center himself and pull himself together again. It took a while, but when he opened his eyes and reached for the shower gel he had himself under control again.

He wasn't allowed to desire a woman. So he wouldn't desire a woman.

From now on Emma Swan would just be a resident of this town. Nothing else. He wouldn't let himself think about her in any lustful ways.

He'd let this attraction go too far already.

He had to stop it.

Right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Isn't sambethe's art absolutely amazing? I love it so much. You can find her art post over on Tumblr.**
> 
> **She made art for the next chapter, too. And in the next chapter this story will really earn its E rating. You already excited? I definitely am for you to see the drawing and read the chapter. :-)**


	7. Going To Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You ready for the art and the chapter?**
> 
> **Buckle your seatbelts! Let's get this E-party started!**

Emma didn't know why she came back to the cabin. It wasn't conducive to her mental stability at all. She just had to look at the tree Rocket had been on to feel shivers run up and down her spine. And not the good kind of shivers. Those only came when she closed her eyes and let herself remember the feel of Killian's scruff against her lips when she'd gone completely insane and kissed the priest. Granted, it was only on the cheek. But even that innocent touch had rocked her to her core.

Pulling the zipper of her jacket up, she stepped down from the porch. The crisp, clean air around her might help find her equilibrium again. Walking to the edge of the clearing, she closed her eyes to concentrate on the sound of nature surrounding her, forcing herself to take in deep breaths. It actually helped. Just standing there, doing nothing. The tension of the last weeks seeped out of her, leaving her feeling lighter, as if an invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Now she just needed to find a way to hold on to that tranquility.

A raindrop hit her cheek and she opened her eyes and looked up, frowning when she saw the dark clouds above her. Maybe she should head home before the rain really started. She hadn't even finished the thought when the decision was taken out of her hands. In just one second, the rain started to pour.

"Damn it," she cursed as she sprinted back to the cabin, her clothes soaked through in seconds. She could hardly see anything in front of her, hoping she was still running in the direction of the cabin. Seconds later, she saw a shadow through the sheets of rain but she was unable to stop her forward momentum. She crashed into the person who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and they both stumbled up the porch steps until a hand clasped her forearm and an arm wound around her waist to steady her.

"Careful, love."

It took her only a second to register that voice and she groaned inwardly. Crashing into the priest she couldn't stop thinking about was the last thing she needed right now. Especially if he didn't call her by her given name but threw endearments around in his damn British accent that shot sparks of lust all through her body.

What was he even doing here? Not that getting an answer to that question would make this situation any easier.

She should extract herself from his embrace, should step back and run away as fast as she could. But for some insane reason her body didn't listen, kept her rooted to the spot.

_Move, Swan. Goddammit, woman. Move._

* * *

Killian bit down on his tongue as he held the woman of his dreams in his arms. He'd come out to the cabin to enjoy some uninterrupted solitude. Instead the woman he'd sworn himself to avoid had almost knocked him off his feet. Literally.

She was pressed against him from head to toe, her hair brushing against his neck as she tilted her head to look up at him. In the dim light surrounding them, her eyes were a brilliant green, seeming to see way more than he wanted her to see as she just stayed plastered against him.

He couldn't move. Couldn't step back. Couldn't drop his arms. It was as if he was glued to her body. He knew he should push them apart, his mind screaming at him to step away from the undeniable temptation. But then her tongue darted over her bottom lip and withstanding temptation was no longer an option.

He swooped down and crashed his lips on hers, tightening his arms around her so that she couldn't get away. But she apparently didn't want to. Her lips opened on a moan underneath his, her fingers threading through his hair.

The kiss blew him away. It was way better than he'd ever dreamed. Hungry. Passionate. Mind-blowing.

Her body fit so perfectly against his, her hips rocking forward so that his growing erection pressed hard into her stomach. She moaned again and he angled his head to be able to deepen the kiss even further. She met him stroke for stroke, kissing him back as hungrily. He could have kissed her for hours, but the need for air put a stop to it sooner than he liked.

When she leaned back to look him in the eyes he expected for reality to come crashing back and pulling them apart. But instead of seeing shock and realization on her face, he could only see lust.

"Killian," she whispered with so much want and desperation in her voice that he could only lean down again and capture her lips in another searing kiss.

When they needed to separate again, she just pushed him backwards until she could reach the doorknob, her lips trailing over his neck as she fumbled behind his back until the door opened and they stumbled into the cabin. He heard the door fall shut a second before the opposite wall stopped them, his back slamming hard into the wood. But he didn't care. He was occupied with opening her jacket and shoving it down her shoulders so that he could map her whole body with his hand, eager to feel everything at once. Her hands were flying all over him, too. His coat hit the floor a moment later, her fingers biting into his neck one second, slipping under his shirt and digging into his stomach the next.

Her wet pants clung to her skin, making it almost impossible for him to find a way into them, not to mention fulfilling the desperate need to close his mouth around one of her nipples and suck at it until she moaned his name again.

He cursed out loud when one of her hands slipped between their bodies and found his aching erection, her fingers gripping his cock hard through his pants. He growled against her lips when she massaged his erection, his blood coursing downwards, making his cock swell even further under her touch.

With another curse falling from his lips he switched their positions, pressing her against the wood. He was so aroused that he had a hard time finding the zipper of her pants. It took him way too long between frantic kisses to pull it down, but then it finally yielded to his frenzied attempts and one of her hands joined his to help him push her pants down.

He was too impatient to take care of her panties the same way. He just closed his hand around them and tugged until they disintegrated between his fingers with a sharp snap. Finally he slipped his fingers through her folds. He growled when he found her already soaking wet for him, her lips quivering under his as he slid a finger into her. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he thrust slowly in and out of her, her walls gripping him so tightly that he wanted nothing more than to bury himself balls-deep inside of her immediately. She was already so ready for him. He didn't even have to wait to push two fingers into her. She was so slippery that he only needed to pump into her for a few seconds before he could add another finger, thrusting into her with three fingers now.

She welcomed it with a throaty moan, her hands falling from his hair. Her fingers dug into his biceps as she threw her head back, the sight before him making his cock grow impossibly harder. He pressed his thumb against her clit while burying his fingers deep inside of her and she froze, trembling against him for a few seconds until he started to move his fingers again while rubbing his thumb over her clit. The wet sounds of her cunt clinging to his fingers reverberated through the cabin, almost making him come in his pants. But he was determined to hold out until she climaxed for him.

He pulled his fingers out of her, just leaving the tips inside her before he leaned back. He wanted to see her face when she came. Her eyes fluttered opened, her chest heaving, drawing his gaze to her erect nipples, clearly visible through her wet shirt.

He looked down where his hand was pressed to her entrance, his fingers coated with her arousal. Something about the sight brought a sliver of reality back and he suddenly realized what he was doing. Pleasuring a woman with his fingers, looking forward to burying his cock deep in her pussy. Shame crashed over him, threatening to choke him. He'd broken his vows. All of them, in minutes. He didn't stop with kissing her. No, he'd shoved her against the wall and finger-fucked her like a madman.

His throat closed with guilt and he pulled his fingers out of her and stumbled backwards, his heart hammering in his chest as he looked at her. Her eyes were hooded with lust, her nipples poking through the damp fabric of her shirt. He averted his gaze to the ground and balled his hand into a fist. His jaw ached when he gritted his teeth so hard that he wouldn't be surprised if he chipped a tooth.

"Don't stop," Emma whimpered, her hands clenching beside her body as she rocked her hips in his direction. The wet sheen of her arousal coating her folds made him grit his teeth even harder. "Why did you stop?"

"I can't do this," Killian whispered, rubbing his hand over his face. Her smell lingering on his fingers hit him like a freight train. Groaning out loud, he dropped his hand, rubbing it hard over his pants to clean it off the evidence of her arousal. What had he done? "This was a mistake."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emma snapped, her eyes turning a deeper shade of green with her anger. She visibly trembled with rage as she leaned down to grab her pants, cursing loudly when it took her some effort to wiggle back into them. Killian was glad for the short reprieve, but when she looked up at him again, her eyes blazed fire at him. "You had no problem shoving your fingers into my pussy and putting your thumb on my clit, but moments before I come, you chicken out?"

He jerked, her crude language hitting him square in the chest, not that he didn't deserve her wrath. "I'm sorry. This shouldn't have happened. We can't...I shouldn't…"

"God damn you, Father Jones," she spat out, her mouth curling up into a mocking smirk when he flinched upon hearing her words. "That's right. You're gonna burn in hell for what you just did. Isn't that right, Father Jones? You'd just condemned yourself to everlasting damnation." She let out a dark chuckle, her shoulders straightening as she shot daggers at him. "You know what? Just go to your hell. You deserve it."

Without giving him a chance to say anything more, to apologize once again, she grabbed her jacket, slipped past him and rushed to the door. It slammed shut behind her, the sudden silence pressing down on him. Guilt washed over him in waves, threatening to drown him. And the worst of all was the fact that he'd hurt Emma with his inexcusable actions. Dropping down on his knees, he buried his face in his hand, a harsh whimper ripping out of his throat as her smell assaulted him once again.

She'd paid for his weakness. And he didn't know if he could ever forgive himself for that.

* * *

It was eerily quiet when Emma entered the church, all sound ceasing when the heavy doors closed behind her. She stopped right inside, straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath.

She was so going to hell for this.

If she believed in hell. Fortunately, she didn't.

Her mouth curled up into a smile as she walked slowly towards the confessional booth at the side of the church, her stomach clenching in anticipation when she thought about what was going to happen in the next few minutes. It was all Killian's fault, after all. If he hadn't left her high and dry, she wouldn't be reduced to taking these desperate measures. She even had to go back to the cabin to close up and get her ruined panties. Something else Killian had to pay for.

"You had it coming, Father Jones," Emma whispered before she pulled back the curtain and slipped into the booth.

Her heart skipped a beat as she sat down, her eyes flickering up to the hardly distinguishable shadow on the other side of the small meshed window.

"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned."

A throat cleared loudly on the other side of the window, wood creaking as he shifted. His voice sounded hoarse as he said, "What kind of sins do you want to atone for?"

God, his voice alone made her wet. It brought the cabin back in vivid images, the way his mouth had devoured her, the way his fingers had buried deep, pleasuring her until her whole body was trembling with the need to come, something he had denied her by stopping right before she'd have fallen. He deserved this.

"I have very impure thoughts about a man who should not be the recipient of my unchaste thoughts. But you see, Father. I can't help it. I want him." The breathing on the other side of the window grew ragged, the sound making her smile. "I want him deep inside of me."

There was a short pause before he replied with a pained voice, "If he's bond by other vows you should not pursue it any farther."

"I wanted to stay strong, Father. I really did. But he made the first move. He kissed  _me_."

It needed to be said. It wasn't her fault that they'd folded, given in to the temptation. He'd started it. She hadn't been strong enough to stop it. Not when his kiss had almost devastated her.

"Emma?"

She ignored the pleading in his voice, the fury still coursing hot through her veins.

"I'm even wet for him now. So, so wet." She lifted her hips and pushed her skirt up, her fingers ghosting over her already damp panties as she continued to torture him. "I lay in bed every night, letting my hands roam over my body, wishing it were his hands that explored my body. Caressing my nipples. Fondling my folds. Spreading me wide open with his fingers until I can't think straight anymore. Until I just want him to fuck me deeper. Take me over the edge."

"You need to stop," he rasped, the shadow of his face becoming clearer when he leaned closer to the window.

"He drives me mad with need. I get myself off at least five times a day. But the ache…" she trailed off, a small voice in her brain telling her she couldn't do this. Shouldn't do this in a church. Should respect his wish for her to leave. But she was still so angry. And so needy. She couldn't stop. Letting out a shuddering breath, she pushed her panties aside and slid her fingers through her wet folds. "The ache won't go away. I can't control it at all. Even now I need to soothe it somehow before it burns me alive. I can't wait a second longer. I have to satisfy it right now."

A tortured groan reached her ears as she slipped two fingers inside and started to pump them in and out of her pussy, the wet sounds her fingers made clearly audible in the confines of the confessional booth. She heard a zipper being lowered on the other side and she bit her tongue to keep the moan slipping from her lips.

"Can you hear it, Father?" she whispered as she added a second finger, thrusting them in and out in a frantic pace, needing to come so badly that sweat popped out on her forehead. She didn't even care that the sounds her fingers made could be probably heard throughout the whole church. "Can you hear how wet I am for him?"

A groan rolled over her, the telltale sounds of him jacking himself off reaching her ears. She would give anything to see him right now, to see how his fist was wrapped tight around his very impressive length.

"I want his cock to drive deep into me, pounding my flesh until I can't breathe anymore. Until all I can think about is his cock spreading me wide open, his hips slapping against my ass when he takes me hard and fast."

Her walls started to flutter around her fingers and she rubbed her thumb over her clit. She was so, so close. She just needed...a guttural growl came through the meshed window, pushing her over.

A long-drawn out moan spilled from her lips, her walls clenching around her fingers as she came, her whole body shaking as she kept flicking her thumb over her clit until the last shivers of her climax subsided.

"Thank you, Father," she whispered. "For giving me what you should have given me yesterday." A wave of anger washed over her again, making her voice shake slightly as she added, "Reserve a place in hell for me."

* * *

His whole body still shook when he heard the heavy doors of the church fall shut, the back of his head hitting the wood behind him hard as he slumped into his seat.

"Bloody hell, woman," he growled, staring down at the mess he'd made of himself.

Guilt crashed down on him when he looked at the evidence of the depravity he'd just engaged in in this sanctioned building. His pants and shirt were covered in his cum, the ropes of his semen stark white against the black of his clothes. He'd come and come and come, imaging his cock being squeezed by Emma's pussy over and over again while he emptied himself deep inside of her.

"This is madness," he whispered, carefully reaching into the pocket of his pants to pull out a handkerchief to clean up as much of the mess as possibly.

Her voice was still ringing in his ears... _Reserve a place in hell for me_. He would definitely go to hell for this, but he couldn't blame Emma for his weakness. This was all his fault. Again.

She was right. He had started all of it. He couldn't fault her for coming to him with revenge on her mind. After all, he'd owed her an orgasm. She'd just taken it into her own hands while turning his world upside down while doing it. His cock twitched when he remembered the sounds her fingers had made as she pleasured herself. The moan that had spilled from her lips as she'd come. He groaned out loud when his cock started to harden again. Damn this woman. He'd never been so horny in his life. If he didn't get out of here fast, he would take his cock in hand and just jerk himself off again, imagining her splayed out naked in front of him, her fingers pumping into her glistening wet pussy while her eyes never left his, daring him to step closer and take over.

He bit down on his tongue hard as he reached for his cock, suppressing a groan when he shoved it back into his boxer briefs and zipped his pants up. Looking down, he checked if he'd removed all traces as best as he could before he stood up and pushed the curtain aside slowly, making sure nobody was outside. Letting out a relieved sigh when he found the church empty, he slipped out and rushed towards his office. He needed a few minutes to get himself under control again, not to mention that a certain vixen made it necessary for him to change his clothes in the middle of the day. And then he needed to pray. To ask God for forgiveness for the unspeakable sin he'd just committed on holy ground.

But praying didn't help him get Emma out of his head. He tried for over two hours, tried to clear his mind and let his faith take over. When Emma's moans rang in his ears again, he cursed silently and gave up. Maybe a walk to Granny's, a grilled cheese sandwich, and a bear claw could distract him from his impure thoughts.

He made quick work of putting his winter coat on and pulling a beanie over his head. The wind was bitterly cold already, a certain smell lingering in the air that promised snow. At least the gusts of wind made him forget about Emma for the few minutes it took to walk to Granny's. He was glad when he finally stepped into the warmth of the diner, rubbing his hand over his pants to warm it up again as he walked towards the bar.

Ruby greeted him with a big smile, leaning on the counter. "Grilled cheese sandwich, Father?"

"Aye. And a bear claw, please."

"Hot chocolate with marshmallows to warm up?"

Putting even more sugar in his body might be a great idea right about now. "Aye, add that to the order."

"Emma swears by it."

He tensed upon hearing Emma's name, what happened in the confessional booth popping back into his mind in vivid detail. He had to clear his throat before he could ask, "She was here today?"

"Yeah, about two hours ago. Didn't just bring in the cold, but a bad mood, too." Ruby shrugged her shoulders, busying herself with getting his order ready. "Said something about being one of those days, whatever she meant by that. I'll get it out of her eventually."

_Hopefully not._

Killian gritted his teeth together to keep himself from blurting it out loud. He could imagine in what kind of mood Emma had been two hours ago. Her voice had been as icy as the wind outside as she'd told him to go to hell.

"Maybe it was just the weather," he replied, knowing that this was most likely not the case.

"Maybe, but then her mood might not have improved much over the last two hours." Killian raised his eyebrow in question, waiting for Ruby to elaborate her statement. "She went out to the cabin. She promised Mary Margaret to check on it."

Images of the things they'd done in that cabin not that long ago flickered through his mind, accompanied by the memories of the sounds she'd made when she pleasured herself in the confessional booth. He gulped down a groan, refraining from adjusting his cock as it swelled in his pants.

A sudden burst of fury slammed into him out of nowhere. He couldn't let her get away with that incredibly bad behavior. Fueled by his anger, he decided that confronting her right now was the best option.

When Ruby put his order on the counter he snapped it up, forcing himself to sound normal when he said his goodbyes to Ruby. As he walked out of the diner he was determined to walk straight back to the church. But instead of turning right he turned left, chastising himself for even considering to walk to the cabin on foot. He had a hot chocolate with him to keep him warm, after all. And some sustenance in form of the grilled cheese sandwich and the bear claw. He'd be fine.

It might be one of his worst ideas to chase after Emma, but the moment Ruby mentioned Emma was at the cabin, a jolt had rocked through him. He needed to give her a piece of his mind. Right now. She couldn't just walk into his church and desecrate it like that. She'd been in the house of God. She might be an atheist but she should at least have some respect. Maybe it was high time that she showed some. To his profession. To his faith.

Suddenly he didn't even feel the cold anymore, righteous anger warming him from the inside. The walk to the cabin took him almost ninety minutes, but it felt like only half an hour had passed as he stepped on the clearing. The flicker of flames shining through the windows made his anger burn even brighter. She was all cozy in there after getting herself off in a sacred building. But not for long.

Stomping up the porch, he yanked the door open and stepped in, ready to confront the vixen.

* * *

If someone were to ask her why she'd gone back to the cabin after giving herself an earth-shattering orgasm in a church, she wouldn't be able to give them a proper response. She'd told Ruby that Mary Margaret had asked her to check on it, but that had been a lie. She just needed a few hours to herself. She justified her being here by starting a fire. At least, she was checking that the chimney wasn't clogged.

Emma leaned back against the couch cushions and closed her eyes. She didn't really know what had gotten into her. She shouldn't have done it. However, being back in the cabin, the place of his 'crime', brought all the memories of the minutes spent with him in a fog of scorching lust back to the forefront of her mind. His kisses burning her alive, his thick fingers stretching her wide open as he pumped them in and out of her. A shudder wracked through her body, her core clenching around nothing.

She wanted him. Very, very badly. But giving in to her urges, letting her anger reign over her common sense, hadn't been right. She'd practically spat on his faith by coming into his church and finger-fucking herself to climax in the confessional booth. She might not believe in God, but that didn't give her the right to disregard his beliefs. Not to mention the fact that she'd ignored him telling her to stop. That was inexcusable.

Groaning she dropped her head down on her knees, cursing softly as she decided to go apologize to Killian for her ill-advised actions today.

She startled upright when the door was suddenly wrenched opened and a very angry priest stormed into the cabin, stopping a few feet in front of the couch to glare down at her with fire burning bright in his eyes. His voice dripped venom as he barked, "Have you gone completely insane, woman?"


	8. Fall into Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I know the cliffhanger in the last chapter was a little mean. I hope this chapter makes up for it. :-)**

 

Killian was shaking with fury as he stared down the woman who had the audacity to step into the church and pleasure herself in the confessional booth. She'd practically forced him to wrap his hand around his cock and get himself off alongside her. A small voice in the back of his mind tried to remind him that a few hours ago he'd put the whole blame on himself. But he just ignored it. After all, feeling anger was so much easier than feeling guilt. He also ignored the sizzle of lust that went straight to his cock when she jumped up, coming nose to nose with him, her eyes spurting fire and her face flushing enticingly.

"Not insane. I just needed to get off. Since a certain someone wasn't able to give me what I needed," she shot back with a nonchalance that made him see red. Simultaneously, his brain was attacked by an image of her fingers thrusting deep into her pussy, not that he'd seen it. But God, her anger fueled his own even further, and his cock got even harder.

"We were in a church," he hissed, leaning down so that his lips almost brushed hers.

"I was well aware of that," she drawled, her hand coming up to his chest to push him back. "Payback is a bitch…Father Jones."

Something inside of him just snapped, leaving his control in shatters. "I'll give you payback, Miss Swan."

He hauled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground and plopped her down on the table. Her breathing quickened when he pushed her backwards until she lay flat on the table. He shrugged out of his coat and threw it on the floor. Stepping closer, he grabbed her skirt and shoved it up over her hips, wrapping his fingers around her panties. For a split second he hesitated, the red veil of fury lifting as he locked eyes with her. He stilled his fingers, expecting her to push him away. Tension crackled through the air as she just continued to stare at him. He was close to stepping back when her mouth curled up into a smirk and she spread her legs wider, rocking her hips upwards. Before she could even say anything he was on his knees in front of her, shoving her panties aside and burying his mouth in her folds. He groaned when her juices hit his tongue and he started to lick her folds up and down, his cock pushing hard against the zipper of his pants when she squirmed against his mouth. He let himself savor her taste for a few seconds before he leaned back to look up at her, her panties sliding back in place.

"Was that what you wanted, Emma?" he growled, lifting his hand to put his palm over her panties. "You wanted to be devoured by me until all you can think about is how I'll make you come over and over again until you can't walk any longer."

Her thighs trembled against his shoulders, her eyes wide with need. He saw her gulp hard. Twice. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as if she was searching for words, words she apparently wasn't able to find. Instead her hands closed around the hem of her shirt and pulled it up to her neck. Her fingers shook as she reached for the cups of her bra and pushed them down, her fingers closing around her erect nipples and tugging at them. Her head fell back on a moan as she played with her nipples, the sound going straight to his cock. God, she was irresistible.

Her eyes found his again as she pulled her legs up to put her feet on the table. Lifting her hips, she looked at him expectantly. Her panties were wet with her arousal and he licked his lips, eager to taste her again. But this time he didn't want any fabric limiting him. He stood and grabbed her legs, pulling them up to put them against his shoulders. Snagging her panties, he dragged them up, pushing her legs towards her chest to pull them over her feet. The moment the fabric slipped over her toes she put her legs on the table again. Dropping back down on his knees, he brought his fingers to her folds and spread her open to give him better access. He was determined to drive her crazy. The moans and whimpers that fell from her lips as he devoured her told him that he might succeed in that regard.

"I…" He pushed deep into her with his tongue, fucking her relentlessly while circling his thumb over her engorged clit. "God, I…Killian...I…"

She moaned loudly as her walls fluttered around his tongue, her legs tightening around his head as she came. He didn't relent though, wanting her to be mad with need. He pulled his tongue out and flicked it over her clit, his cock jerking in his pants as she whimpered. He sucked hard at her clit at the same time he pushed three fingers deep into her. She let out a strangled scream as her walls convulsed around him once again, the force so great that he feared for a split second his fingers might break. He kept thrusting his fingers into her, leaning back slightly to watch her face as she came down from her high.

Her eyes were hooded, her cheeks flushed as she looked at him. Her tongue darted out and licked over her bottom lip, a soft whimper escaping her when he pulled his fingers slowly out of her. She kept her legs spread wide open, just stared at him, probably waiting for his next move. He was hard as a rock, his cock wanting nothing more than to thrust deep into her. He almost ripped his belt apart as he unfastened it. Pulling down the zipper, he just pushed his pants and boxer briefs far enough down his thighs to free his cock from its confines, immediately wrapping his hand around it.

"You want that?" he asked, his voice only a harsh rasp as he pumped his cock through his fist. "You want my cock?"

"Yes," she whispered, licking her lips once again as she watched him jerking himself off. "That's exactly what I want."

"Then that's what you'll get."

He pushed her legs even further apart, stepping between them. Pushing his cock down, he aligned it with her entrance. Her juices coated his erection, the wet touch suddenly bringing him back to reality. Protection. Bloody hell. He'd almost forgotten to use any kind of protection.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he let out a deep groan, unable to step back from the scorching heat of her folds against his cock. He might die on the spot if he wasn't in her in the next seconds, but he still needed to make sure he could take her without a condom. Gritting his teeth, he put a stranglehold on his control, needing a few seconds before he could actually speak, "No condom."

"On the pill. I'm on the pill, Killian." Her nails dug into his skin as she closed her fingers around his wrist, her legs wrapping around his waist to keep him in place as if she feared he would step back. That was definitely not going to happen, especially when a whimpered plea fell from her lips, "Please."

How could he withstand this blonde temptation, looking up at him with a hooded gaze, her legs locked tightly around his waist while her soaking wet pussy teased the head of his pounding cock?

"As you wish, love."

And then he pushed into her in one long slide. Her walls clamped around him, enveloping him like a vise. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move. She felt like heaven. So wet and hot and…he was going to hell. But what a way to go.

Her walls contracted around him once again, her nails digging so hard into his arms that he wouldn't be surprised if she drew blood. He kept still inside of her, fighting for control. Then she whispered his name, and he couldn't wait any longer. He pounded into her without finesse, giving her everything she apparently needed from him and more. He put so much force into his next thrust that the table skidded over the floor and knocked hard into the wall. He stopped, buried deep inside of her, fearing for a moment that he might have hurt her, but before he could ask her she wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him senseless. He had a hard time drawing air into his lungs, and she pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him back.

"Is that all you've got?" she asked him, tightening her legs around his waist as she slid her hand down her chest until she could rub her fingers over her clit.

God, this woman would surely be the death of him. He pulled out of her slowly, letting her feel every inch of his length. When only the head of his cock remained inside of her he stopped, leaving her wanting as long as he could manage. Seconds ticked by, the knuckles of her fingers rubbing over his cock as she kept pleasuring herself, a defiant expression flickering over her face as she held his gaze without saying anything. The unspoken challenge in her eyes broke the last strands of his control and he pushed into her, taking her faster and faster.

"Is this what you want, Emma?" he growled, not slowing down his pumping hips even when sweat started to drip into his eyes. "Getting fucked hard and fast? Having my cock deep inside of you?"

"Yes. Oh my God, yes."

"I should keep you like this for hours. Should fuck you so long that you feel me for days to come."

"More," Emma whimpered, her fingers picking up speed as her back bowed off the table. "Give me more."

Leaning forward again, he snapped his hips back and forth frantically. He felt the tell-tale tingle of his climax in his lower back, holding on to the last vestiges of his control to keep his orgasm back just for a few moments longer.

"Come for me, Emma."

He shifted his hips to find the spot deep inside of her, letting out a triumphant growl when her eyes shot opened, her body tensing before she orgasmed once again around him. His hips stuttered as the pressure around his cock became unbearable and he came on a groan, spilling his release into her. His whole body trembled as his cock kept jerking inside of her, his knees almost giving out on him with the force of his climax.

He dropped his head on her shoulder, his breath coming out in harsh pants. Her hand slipped out from between their bodies, her fingers trailing over his arm up to his neck. He let himself rest against her for a few more seconds before he'd recovered enough to push himself up.

He should have felt guilt as he pulled out of her, but it didn't come. Instead he looked down at her, not able to keep a cocky smirk off his face as he watched his cum drip from her swollen folds. Without thinking he reached for her, swiping his fingers through the sticky mess.

"Again," he growled, slipping three fingers into her while his thumb pressed against her clit.

"Killian, I can't," Emma whimpered, her hips belying her words as she rocked on his fingers.

"You can," Killian demanded, crooking his fingers until he found her spot again. "Give me one more."

Her walls twitched around his fingers, her whole body starting to tremble as she chased her orgasm. It didn't take long until she fell apart again. He slowed down considerably then, knowing she must be hypersensitive by now. Pulling his fingers out of her slowly, he lifted them to her mouth, his cock jerking back to life as her lips closed around his fingers to lick them clean. He'd never been able to get hard again so fast after a climax, but apparently the sorceress lying on the table before him managed to keep his body in a constant state of arousal.

"Should I take care of that problem, Killian?" she drawled as she flicked her gaze down to his rapidly hardening cock.

His given name coming out of her mouth never ceased to shoot shivers down his spine, especially when she said it in that throaty voice. Add to that her appearance, all disheveled and completely debauched and he couldn't keep his cock from not reacting. It jerked against his stomach and he reached down to close his fingers around the base before he would come from the vision in front of him alone.

"It looks painful," Emma rasped as she sat up and pushed him back so that she could jump off the table. She didn't bother with putting her bra and shirt back in order, her hard nibbles begging him to suck them. When his eyes wandered up to her face again she shot him a devilish smirk as if she could read his thoughts. Lifting her hands, she started to play with her nipples, eliciting a deep growl out of him.

"Aye, you can help me with my problem," he whispered, stroking up and down his cock, their combined fluids coating his hand arousing him even more. If that was even possible.

"As you wish," she responded, closing the gap between them and dropping down on her knees.

He gripped his cock harder, bumping it against her mouth. She licked her lips, her tongue darting over the tip. And then she opened her mouth and took him in, and all he could do was bury his hand in her hair as she sucked and licked him as if her life depended on it.

"Emma, I'm…you should…"

He didn't get more words out as she deep-throated him at that moment and gulped around the head of his cock. He shot down her throat then, his fingers tightening in her hair as she took everything he gave her, swallowing every last drop of his cum before she let him slip out of her mouth.

"I…that was…"

He wasn't able to form any coherent sentences, his brain unable to work at all when she lifted her hand to her lips and caught a drop of his cum at the corner of her mouth and licked her finger clean.

"Long overdue," she told him with a satisfied smirk on her face. "Wouldn't you agree, Father?"

The one word was like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head, the contrite expression flitting over her face telling him she'd realized the kind of mistake she'd made by reminding him of his profession a second too late.

He'd just fucked a woman. And he had enjoyed it. Something he wasn't allowed to do, wasn't allowed to have. He'd completely lost his mind after she'd appeared in the confessional booth and driven him nearly mad with need. She'd sat there behind the meshed window and fucked her fingers into her pussy, commenting every single thing she did to her body and what she fantasized about him doing to her. But it should have never become reality.

"Killian, I…"

"I have to go."

He put his clothes back in order without looking at her, almost ripping the zipper of his pants off in his haste to get away from her. Not that he needed long to get dressed again since he'd just shoved his pants far enough down his thighs to free his cock. He hadn't had the patience to get rid of his clothes. He'd just needed to be in her. Feel her tight sheath envelop his pounding cock. He hadn't thought about anything but plunging into her and giving her what she wanted. What they both wanted.

"We're not finished with each other, Father Jones."

His eyes snapped back to hers. Her words were a clear challenge. A challenge he wouldn't accept. Couldn't accept.

"We  _are_ finished, Miss Swan," he responded determinedly, leaning down to grab his coat off the floor. He'd succumbed to temptation, but he wouldn't repeat that mistake again. "This can't happen again."

He walked briskly towards the door, forcing himself to not look back over his shoulder. He knew he'd fold the moment his eyes fell on her again. Knowing what he did was wrong didn't make the need go away at all. He still wanted her, wanted to just turn around and pull her into his arms. Stay the whole night and fuck her over and over again. Maybe then he'd be able to get her out of his system.

He stepped out of the cabin and shut the door silently behind him. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his hand over his face, gulping down a groan when her scent assaulted him. His hand started shaking, his whole body strung insanely tight with tension as he willed himself to stay strong and not go back in.

Turning around, he pressed his head against the wood, taking in a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He heard her rustling around inside and he put his hand on the door, sudden tears pricking the back of his eyes as he just stood there, unable to walk away. He knew he needed to move, needed to be gone before she came out, but he didn't want to leave her. He wanted to stay. And not only for the sex – he wanted to hold her close the whole night, just wanted to be near her.

Something he could never have.

* * *

What had she been thinking confronting him in the church? She knew, or hoped, where it would end. Did she learn nothing by suffering through the series 'The Thorn Birds' that Ruby had forced her to watch a few months ago? Never get involved with a priest. Never. It didn't end well. She damn well knew that. She didn't need to watch a fictional couple to tell her that. It was common sense to keep your hands away from a priest. He couldn't be with her. He'd taken actual vows to stay celibate. And she'd just ignored her brain telling her what a bad idea going after him was.

She should have ignored the insane attraction she felt for him. But Storybrooke was a small town. Even if she'd wanted to never see him again, they were bound to run into each other at some point. But she should have stayed strong. Shouldn't have given in. She was such an idiot. It was her own damn fault. Now she needed to deal with the consequences of her stupid decision.

Her thighs were sticky with his cum, his semen still trickling out of her as she put her bra and shirt back in order. She almost reached down to trail her fingers through her folds, just to remind herself that this hadn't been all a dream, not that she really needed the reminder. Her whole body ached from the hard fucking he'd given her. A full-body shiver ran through her as she tensed her muscles deliberately to make herself feel the ache between her legs. He'd just given her four orgasms, something her over-sensitive clit reminded her off with every move of her body. And she wanted him again. If he stepped through that door right now, she would throw herself at him and beg him to take her once again. How pathetic was that? She didn't beg.

She was apparently a glutton for punishment. She shouldn't have pursued him further after he'd left her in the cabin the first time. She should have been smarter. But every time she'd thought about how he'd pushed her to the brink just to leave her there and not finish what he'd started, a new wave of anger had washed over her. An anger that had propelled her into doing something reckless, like walking into a confessional booth and getting herself off to taunt a certain priest. If she was honest with herself, she hadn't expected his reaction to be this epic. He'd thrown her for a loop by actually pursuing her immediately, his angry entrance making her react without thinking. She'd wanted to apologize to him. Instead she just let herself be swept away by his passion. She'd expected him to either avoid her at all costs or to pull her aside at one point to read her the riot act. But not  _this_. She didn't expect him to fuck her like  _that_. Hard and unrelenting.

Sighing softly, she picked up her panties and put them back on. She needed to get out of here as quickly as possible, but first she needed to take care of the fire. She was glad when she saw that only a small amount of embers were left in the ash. Going into the kitchen, she forced her thoughts away from the priest and the last hour. She reached into the cupboard and pulled out a big measuring cup to fill it with water. Walking back into the living room, she crouched down before the fireplace and spread the ash out with the poker, pouring the water slowly over the remnants of the fire. When the small swirls of smoke had dissipated she swiped the poker through the ash to make sure no embers remained before pulling the fireguard in front of it.

Straightening, she took a quick look around to make sure everything looked normal. It was then that she realized that the table was still pushed against the wall. With a groan she walked over and put it back in place, shoving the memories of what had happened on it into the darkest recesses of her mind.

Eager to leave, she walked briskly to the door. When she stepped out she actually looked around, chastising herself a second later for even having the smallest hope that he might still be here. She quenched the sudden need to pound her forehead against the wooden wall to knock some sense into her brain.

He didn't want her. Not really. She'd pushed him into it. Pushed him so far that he apparently lost sight of his humanity and let the remnants of his animal nature take over the reigns. Giving in to temptation and fucking her had just been a result of hormones going wild, not something genuine. Just raw need, nothing else.

This had been a one-time thing, even if she told him otherwise. No matter how hot and satisfying it had been. She just had to find a way to live with that even if she still wanted him.


	9. Getting Close

When an insistent knock at the door pulled her out of her couch stupor on her day off, Emma knew who it was without the visitor announcing themselves. Frankly, she was surprised it had taken Ruby this long to track her down. She hadn't been to Granny's for over two weeks, and she'd only given her friend evasive answers to her increasingly worried text messages. She'd waited for her phone to ring but she should have known that a phone call wouldn't be enough for Ruby, hence her friend almost knocking her door down.

"Hold your horses," Emma shouted, rolling her eyes when the knocking became more insistent. "I'm coming." Grabbing Rocket from where he was curled up in her lap, she set him down on the couch beside her before standing up to let her friend in.

"About time," Ruby huffed when Emma opened the door. Without an invitation, her friend pushed past her and made a beeline to the couch where she slumped down with a deep sigh. Rocket immediately stalked towards her and made himself comfortable in Ruby's lap. Emma felt a flicker of hope that the kitten might distract her friend for a few seconds, but that hope was dashed when Ruby turned her head to focus all her attention on Emma. "Spill."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Her words only elicited a snort out of Ruby and a scowl as she just kept staring at Emma. Granted, it had been a weak attempt at denial, and she started to fidget when Ruby still didn't say a word. She seriously should have gone to the police academy or Quantico. She'd probably would have been a great spy, too. She definitely was a pro at the whole 'keep silent until your suspect couldn't take it any longer and cracked' interrogation technique.

"Fine, you can stop staring at me like that." Ruby just kept glaring at her and Emma punched her friend's arm before finally giving in. "I jumped his bones."

Ruby's expression turned confused for a moment before her eyes went wide and she gasped, "You did  _not_."

"Yes, I did."

"Shut the front door," Ruby shrieked, startling Rocket, who jumped from her lap with an annoyed meow. Emma tracked the kitten through the living room, wishing she could just follow him to avoid the inevitable interrogation by her friend. But no such luck. Ruby straightened from her slumped position and leaned forward, her face practically glowing with anticipation. "What happened? Tell me everything."

So Emma told her everything. Well, not all the explicit details, of course. She would  _not_ tell her friend about how talented Killian was with his tongue or his cock or practically with everything when it came to sex. He even knew how to talk dirty without it turning into an imitation of a bad porno. Maybe that was why she couldn't get him out of her head.

"Wow," Ruby sighed, falling back against the couch. "He rocked your world good, huh?"

"Yeah, but it was a one-time thing."

"You sure?"

"He's a priest, Ruby," Emma felt the need to point out, even if her body screamed bloody murder. But she was determined to stay strong and put Killian and all his talented appendages out of her mind. "Yes, I'm sure. We don't have a future together."

"I don't know. Maybe…"

"You forced me to watch 'The Thorn Birds' with you. Don't tell me it could end with a happily ever after."

"Okay, you're right. The chances of it turning into a disaster of epic proportion are high. But…"

"No buts. It's over."

"I think it's mimosa time." Ruby blurted out, thankfully not trying to argue with her any longer. Jumping up off the couch, her friend walked into the kitchen. Seconds later her voice drifted out, "Margaritas would probably be more effective but it's only ten o'clock in the morning. Even I can't drink Tequila at this hour."

"Thank God for small favors."

Emma sighed and rubbed her temples, wondering if drinking alcohol right now was really the best idea. Maybe one mimosa would be enough to distract her, even if it was unlikely. Because it didn't matter how hard she tried to forget about Killian, he jumped to the forefront of her brain at least five times a day. Not to mention that almost all her dreams were about him, either the erotic kind that woke her up shivering and aching for release or the weird ones where he sauntered around in pirate clothes and threw innuendos left and right.

"You're still thanking God even though he's the reason you can't get it on with the priest again?" Ruby asked with a twinkle in her eyes as she came back into the living room with two flutes of mimosa in her hands.

Emma was grateful that Ruby was already trying to lighten the mood by making jokes about it, as if the one sexual encounter hadn't rocked her down to her core. Maybe as long as she didn't admit it out loud it would fade away with time.

Yep, time was the key. And alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

* * *

Killian tugged at the altered prosthetic covering his stump, making sure it fit tightly and wouldn't chafe his skin too much. He'd had it custom-made so that he was actually able to do more work outdoors himself. With it, he could clip on a snow shovel and clean the driveway. Of course, he could only work with it for a few minutes, half an hour tops, before his stump protested too much. It would ache for hours afterwards, but sometimes he just needed that kind of physical work to clear his head.

Not that he had much luck with that over the last nine days. Each and every day he'd fought to not think about Emma, to not let his mind drift back to the cabin. He failed miserably every single time. He just couldn't get her out of his head. At least once a day he had to take himself in hand to ease the need for a few minutes. But still he woke up almost every night with a pounding cock, unable to get back to sleep without jerking himself off. The first day he'd told himself he would only let himself think of her when he couldn't take it any longer. But there were so many things that reminded him of her throughout the day. The cemetery. The first pew in the church. The kitchen. Filou. The confessional booth. How could he forget about her when she was everywhere?

His stump started to act up as he continued to shovel the snow to the side. He had only a few more minutes of silencing his mind through manual labor, but he would take all the reprieve he could get. He was almost to the street as he saw someone approaching. When he looked up and saw the woman of his dreams, his heart skipped a beat.

"Good morning, Miss Swan."

It felt safer to address her by her full name again, using her first name would feel too intimate, conjure up images he already had a hard time to forget.

"Good morning, Father Jones."

She came to a stop before him, pushing her hands deep into the pockets of her coat. An uncomfortable silence descended upon them. Clearly, she didn't know what to say either, which wasn't a surprise given how they'd parted the last time they saw each other. He'd promised himself to forget her, but as she was standing before him he couldn't feel anything but joy to be in her presence again.

He'd missed her. God, how he'd missed her.

"Nice day to be out and about, isn't it?" he asked, frantically searching for a safe topic to discuss with her, to keep her with him for a little while longer.

"Yeah, it is." She shifted from foot to foot, not meeting his eyes. Then her eyes flitted up to his for a second before she let her gaze drift over his shoulder, her discomfort clear in her voice as she said, "I don't want to keep you from your work any longer, Father Jones."

She took a step away from him, and all he knew was that he didn't want to let her go just yet.

"Miss Swan?" He stopped her before she could walk away, questioning his sanity when he opened his mouth again and asked, "Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee? Just to warm up a little?"

He immediately wished he could take the words back. Inviting her into his house was madness. The frown between her brows suggested she felt the same. He could practically see her struggle in the changes in her facial expressions. But then she looked him dead in the eyes and smiled softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, "Yes. I'd like that."

Despite it being a very bad idea he grinned back. Having her in his space again might ramp up his desire for her, but right then he couldn't care less.

* * *

His living room was pleasantly warm, the couch almost too comfy. Emma never wanted to leave. Filou was purring in her lap, arching his back into her hand, silently demanding to be petted. A mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon sat on the couch table besides a plate of still warm chocolate chip cookies, the scent of all this goodness in front of her making it even harder for her to give up the comfortable position on his couch.

Killian had to take a phone call, leaving her behind in the living room. Being alone in his domain made her wonder again what the hell she was actually doing here. She shouldn't be here. Being in his presence just made it harder to keep her hands to herself. Even now, a week after she'd accepted his invitation for a cup of coffee and four visits later, she still struggled with being near him and not really being with him. She should have said no. The pictures that had popped into her brain when he'd said that it might warm her up had been anything but innocent. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered the way he'd kissed her as if his life depended on it. His callused fingers stroking her all over, bringing her to climax over and over again. And the moment when his thick cock...no, she was not going there now. Not when he'd be back any second.

The best course of action would probably be to stand up and leave and never come back. But she'd missed him, and not just the sex. She'd missed talking to him. So she'd said yes to his offer and spent two hours in his kitchen. They'd talked and talked and talked, without any pregnant pauses. She'd loved it. So she'd come back two days later during her lunch break with grilled cheese sandwiches from Granny's. His surprised expression had only stayed in place for a second when he'd opened the door before his eyes had lit up as he'd waved her into his house with a broad smile on his face.

She knew she shouldn't read too much into their conversations. But more and more they felt like dates. At least, they'd ticked off all the classic first date questions. Like favorite color, favorite food, favorite movie, favorite books, and so on.

Now she looked forward to their 'dates'. With each 'date' they became closer. He made her laugh. He listened to her complain about how boring paperwork was, told her stories about the people he'd helped in his time as a priest. The undercurrent of sexual tension was still there, but it was so deeply buried in the darkest recesses of her mind that she could ignore it as long as she was with him. His friendship, because over the last weeks he'd become just that - a friend - was more important. She didn't want to give that up any longer. If she had to suppress the attraction she still felt for him, so be it. Sex wasn't everything, but good friends were hard to find.

"Sorry for having to take that call," Killian said as he entered the living room again. He dropped down in the armchair opposite her, leaning forward to take his mug of hot chocolate. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, the innocent movement making her heart flutter. She almost wasn't able to school her features before he opened his eyes again, a soft smile pulling at his lips "Where were we?"

She actually couldn't even remember what they'd been talking about before his phone rang. But there was something she wanted to ask him for a while now. There was probably never a good time to approach such a private subject, but she wanted to get to know him better.

"You told Henry when you gave him the locket that you've been a sailor. How did you become a priest? If you don't mind me asking."

His smile faltered a little, making her wish she hadn't asked such a personal question. But before she could tell him to forget about it he regained his composure. "I lost my brother at sea." His hand went to his left arm, his fingers rubbing over the prosthetic. "The same day I lost my hand."

"I'm sorry," she murmured, wanting to find more words to comfort him. But she knew there weren't any words that would truly help after such a loss, so she stayed silent.

"I spiraled out of control after that," Killian continued after a short pause, his fingers curling tightly around his mug of hot chocolate. "Getting addicted to the pain medication. Combining the meds with alcohol. I was in a pretty dark place."

"But you pulled out of it," she said softly, admiring him for the strength it must have cost him. "What happened?"

"I met a woman." He smiled then, clearly thinking of the woman who'd saved him. "A very strong, opinionated woman who read me the riot act and pulled me out of the darkness."

"Milah," Emma breathed, remembering the tattoo on his forearm.

"Aye." A flicker of pain washed over his features, making her heart hurt. "But I lost her, too. Moments before she died she made me promise to not let myself fall again. It was hard, but I made it. With a little help from above. I walked by a church one day and just went in. I sat there for hours until the priest came up to me and we started talking. One thing let to another and I ended up here. Being a priest."

"You're a very strong man, Killian Jones." Emma had to gulp hard to keep the tears at bay that pricked at the back of her eyes.

"Not quite. I just met the right people at the right time." He shrugged his shoulders, lifting his hand to scratch behind his ear. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, sipping at their hot chocolates. It should have felt uncomfortable. Strangely, it didn't. He put the mug down on the table after emptying it, leaning back against the cushions, his body tensing slightly as his eyes searched her face for who knew what. His scrutiny made her want to squirm in her seat. Apparently he found was he was looking for, because his posture relaxed slightly, his voice soft as he asked, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Since you just answered one of my personal questions, I definitely won't tell you no," Emma replied, shooting him a smile when she realized that her answer might sound a little harsh. She didn't want to imply that she thought his opening up to her put her on the spot. He would never do that. Knowing that she relaxed. "What do you want to know?"

"What happened to Henry's father?"

"He's not dead. As far as I know, he's still alive somewhere," Emma told him, averting her gaze to the mug in her hands for a moment, gathering her strength for the story to come. She knew he wouldn't pry. He never did. But she wanted to tell him. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him again. "I grew up in foster care. I mostly lived in group homes, since I was too rebellious for most families. When I was sixteen I ran away, started living on the streets. That's where I met Neal. We had fun together. He was…" She gulped hard, remembering how free she'd felt with her ex at first. How cherished. It had all gone up in a fiery explosion later, but the first months had been something she'd never had before. Her voice was slightly scratchy as she continued, "The first time in my life I felt as if I could find a home. With him. A real home. But it was just a pipe dream."

"What happened?"

She'd never told anyone that story before, never wanted anyone to know about it. Not about her time in jail. She only ever told people when they asked about Henry's father that he left her when he found out she was pregnant. Somehow that lie had made it easier. But with Killian...she didn't want to lie to him. Didn't feel the need she had to lie to him about her past. She knew he wouldn't judge her. That he would understand. How she knew that was a mystery to her, but she didn't question it.

"He left me with a bag of watches he'd stolen in my possession. The police found me and arrested me. I ended up in jail. Two weeks later I found out that I was pregnant."

It felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She'd carried that around for so long that it felt as if she could breathe a hell of a lot easier now. How was it possible that Killian had such an impact on her after such a short period of time?

She saw anger flicker over his expression for a moment, his eyes narrowing and his lips thinning as he pressed them hard together. No one had ever been angry at the person who'd caused her such heartache, since she'd never confided in anyone. Seeing him fighting to keep his fury in check warmed her from the inside out. She expected him to curse out her ex or something along those lines. After a few seconds he just relaxed his rigid posture, the expression in his eyes changing to something she couldn't name, something that made it suddenly hard for her to get enough air into her lungs. When he opened his mouth, his voice felt like a caress that reached down to her soul. "You're a very strong woman yourself, Emma Swan."

She wanted to wave him off or laugh about it to chase away the strong emotions his reaction to her story elicited in her, but she couldn't. She just nodded and smiled at him self-deprecatingly as she said, "We make quite a team, huh?"

"Aye," he agreed, his mouth curling up into a smile that didn't help calm down the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. "Quite a team."

God, how could she possibly be just his friend? Gulping down all the things she wanted to say to him, she leaned forward and grabbed a cookie, shoving it into her mouth to keep herself from telling him all the things he probably didn't want to hear. They were walking on a high wire with their friendship anyways, ignoring the things that had happened in the cabin. One false step and they would fall into the abyss. She didn't want that, so she definitely needed to keep a tight grip on these unwanted feelings. Again. Because she didn't want to lose what they'd found, even if it didn't seem to be enough.


	10. Stoking the Flames

The first snow had already melted again, the dry weather over the last week taking care of the slush at the side of the streets and the mud on the lawns. The wind had decided to keep away today too, making it bearable to be outside despite the cold.

Emma was on her way to get Henry after she'd finished her shift, ignoring the increase in her heart rate when she quickened her steps to get to the church faster. She repeated the same words on a loop in her head when she stepped onto the driveway of Killian's house.

_This is not one of your 'dates'. You're just picking up Henry._

Over the last two weeks, Henry had spent more and more time with Killian. The first time he'd asked if he could visit Killian, he'd put on a serious expression and told her that Rocket needed to play with kittens his age. That it was important for him to spend time with other kittens. Emma had almost laughed, admiring Henry's reasoning. Killian had been on board with it immediately when she'd asked him, waving away her concerns that he might not have time for a rambunctious twelve-year-old.

It had definitely not helped with her struggle to keep their relationship in the 'friends only' zone. Sometimes she wondered how long she'd be able to keep her hands off the priest.

Her heart skipped a beat before slamming hard against her ribcage when she saw the scene on the lawn. Both Henry and Killian were wrapped up against the cold, their cheeks flushed red as they faced each other in a fencing pose.

_This is so not fair_ , a voice in her head whined as she tried to keep her heart from falling for the one man she couldn't have. She scrambled for the walls she'd tried to reinforce over and over again over the last few weeks to keep her heart out of the equation, but her efforts were futile. They crumbled at warp speed, leaving her out of breath and light-headed.

How could she possibly protect her heart when he did stuff like teaching her son sword-fighting with the plastic lightsabers she'd given Henry on his birthday? He even made the swishing sounds whenever he swung his saber through the air. It was adorable. And heart-melting when her son threw his head back and laughed out loud about something Killian had just said.

"Mom," Henry greeted her excitedly when he spotted her, his smile practically covering his whole face as he rambled on, "Killian is teaching me sword-fighting. And he invited me to come to his house on Sunday afternoon to teach me how to play chess. He says strategy is as important as strength. Brawn alone might win you a fight, but if you use your brain you can compensate your weaknesses. Right, Killian?"

"Aye, lad," Killian said, clamping the sword between his body and arm, freeing his hand to put it on Henry's shoulder. Her son looked up at him with clear worship in his eyes and she almost melted into a gooey puddle on the ground right there. Especially when Killian continued with an earnest voice, "But you remember what I said about Sunday afternoon?"

"Yeah, I need to ask my mom first." Henry turned to her again, eyes in full 'puppy-dog-eyes' mode. "Can I go, Mom? Please?"

Emma stood no chance whatsoever against the onslaught of those two blinding smiles. Not that she wanted to put up much of a fight to begin with.

"If you finish all your homework on Saturday, I have nothing against you spending Sunday afternoon with Killian."

"Yippee," Henry screamed, wrapping his arms around Killian and hugging him tightly. "Did you hear that, Killian? We can play chess on Sunday."

"I heard it," Killian replied, locking eyes with her over Henry's shoulder. "I'm looking forward to testing your wits, Mr. Swan."

Henry pulled out of the embrace and beamed up at him, the expression on her son's face making her breath hitch in her throat.

_God damn you, Killian Jones. Why are you so perfect?_

"See you on Sunday then?"

"Yep, I'll be there," Henry stated excitedly, taking the lightsaber Killian hold out to him and stashing both in his backpack. He swung it on his back and walked towards the gate, throwing over his shoulder, "Come on, Mom. Rocket needs feeding."

"Thank you," Emma whispered when Henry was out of earshot.

"Thank me for what?"

She let out a shuddering breath, battling down all the emotions threatening to drown her when it came to this man. "For being another great male role model in my son's life."

The flush in his cheeks deepened, his eyes wandering over her shoulder to watch Henry. When he met her eyes again his gaze was full of sincerity. "Your son is easy to get along with. He's smart and has great manners. It's a pleasure to spend time with him."

"Still, thank you."

"You're welcome."

She could only smile at him shakily before she turned around and followed her son, balling her hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

She was screwed. So, so screwed.

* * *

Emma sat opposite him at the kitchen table, her hand curled around a mug of hot chocolate. She was uncharacteristically quiet today, if you ignored the half-swallowed winces she'd tried to hide from him.

His mouth twitched as he suppressed a smile he knew she wouldn't appreciate. But he knew exactly what had happened, his heart squeezing in his chest when he realized how much he'd gotten to know her over the last weeks. He would bet quite a hefty sum of money that she'd poured over the missing person case files again, always hoping to find a clue even when it seemed more and more unlikely to find any. The crappy chairs at the precinct always made her back tense up considerably. But he knew the best remedy for that. He might have only one hand but he was still good at finding the knots and releasing some of the tension in her shoulders.

Getting up from his chair, he walked slowly around the table, coming to a stop behind her.

"Let me help you with that." She threw a questioning look in his direction when he put his hand on her shoulder. "Lean forward a bit. A massage might help relax your muscles."

She looked up at him like a deer caught in the headlights for a few seconds before she turned around and leaned forward. His fingers trembled slightly as he lifted his hand and brushed her hair over one of her shoulders. He swallowed a groan when the soft strands slipped through his fingers like silk.

_What the bloody hell are you doing?_

Ignoring the alarm bells ringing loudly in his head, he brushed his fingers from one shoulder over to the other, focusing on the tension knotting the muscles under her skin to find the spots that needed his attention most. When he found the first knot he put pressure on it carefully, letting the reactions of her body lead him. Sorrow washed over him for a brief moment as the memory of Milah's laughter brushed through his brain. She'd been the one who'd taught him how to get rid of this kind of tension, telling him it was the perfect foreplay. No woman could resist his magic fingers.

He almost let himself get sucked up into his memories, letting his grief rule over the moment but then the knot he'd worked on loosened under his fingers and Emma let out a throaty moan, pulling his thoughts back into the present with a snap.

His fingers stalled for a few seconds as he tried to keep his body from reacting, but her shoulders arched into his touch and he continued his massage without giving himself time to think it through. He regretted that decision the moment another moan fell from Emma's lips, the sound too close to the ones he'd heard when he'd been buried deep inside of her and his cock jerked hard against the zipper of his pants. Gritting his teeth, he kept going, loosening one knot after the other until most of the tension had left her shoulders.

"Better?" he asked, his voice way too hoarse for his liking as he stepped back and let his hand drop to his side.

She rolled her shoulders experimentally, her eyes falling shut as she let out another soft moan that stiffened his cock painfully.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice doing nothing to relieve the pressure the zipper of his pants put on his rock-hard erection. "Much better."

He needed to go. Right now. He needed to leave the room before he did something he'd regret later.

"I have to ask you to leave now," he said in a brusque tone that earned him a very confused look. He gulped hard once, forcing himself to keep his voice calm, even managed to conjure up a smirk as he added, "I completely forgot I have an appointment with the mayor."

"Sure," Emma replied, shooting him another look that was half-curious and half-worried. No surprise there, he was acting like a mad man right now. He kept the smile on his face when she stood up and gathered her purse, holding his breath until she reached the door and looked at him over her shoulder. "See you soon?"

"Aye," he replied, the tension between his shoulders ratcheting up when she hesitated for a second. "See you soon."

She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something else, but then she just shook her head and walked out the door. When the door clicked shut behind her Killian slumped into the chair she'd just vacated, pressing his palm hard against his very erect cock. Closing his eyes, he let out a growl, dropping his head forward so that he could bang his forehead against the wooden surface.

He was a fool. Letting her back into his life had been madness. Utter madness. But no matter how hard it was...he groaned out loud when his cock twitched under his fingers. He so hadn't intended that pun. But it was kind of appropriate for the situation he was in with Emma.

He couldn't let himself succumb to the temptation again. But he couldn't let her go again either.

He'd created his own personal hell. And he probably deserved to burn in it.

* * *

She honestly didn't know why she was torturing herself like this. Of course spending time with him was great...as long as she ignored her body's wishes every time he touched her. Ever since he'd massaged the tension out of her shoulders five days ago, her body had just wanted one thing, pushing him down on a chair and riding him until she couldn't walk anymore. But that was so not happening. Nope. Nyet. Non. Nein.

Emma almost snorted out a laugh about her futile attempts to shut up her raging libido by repeating the word no in all the languages she knew of.

A wince from the other side of the table drew her out of her thoughts and she focused her gaze on Killian, seeing him tilt his head from side to side, his face scrunching up in pain every time he turned his head more than an inch.

"Do you have a crick in your neck?"

"Aye," he murmured, suppressing another wince when he turned his head towards her. "The church is old and drafty."

Without thinking, she hopped off her chair and rounded the table, putting her hand between his shoulder blades.

"Let me return the favor."

_Bad idea, Swan. Don't put your hands on him. Just don't._

"Thank you."

Of course, since she was a complete idiot when it came to him, she totally ignored her inner voice and pressed her thumbs into the hard muscles at his neck. He let out a deep groan, the sound shooting down her spine and settling right between her legs. She continued with the massage, biting her tongue to keep herself from moaning with every of his groans. He was driving her insane with the noises he made, especially when she loosened a very insistent knot in his left shoulder and the man actually moaned. A moan she knew too damn well, the sound had haunted her almost every night in her dreams. It was the sound he'd made when he'd come deep inside of her.

She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, forcing herself to imagine it wasn't Killian she was massaging but someone else. It helped for a few minutes until the stupid man opened his stupid mouth and breathed, "That feels wonderful, love."

Seriously? Throwing endearments around again? Didn't he know that she could only endure so much before her control would snap?

Apparently not, since he decided to let out another indecent groan that increased the wetness between her legs even more. It was time to end this massage, no matter if there were still knots left or not. He just had to find another way to release the tension that didn't include her.

When she lifted her hands from his shoulders her fingers twitched, her body vibrating with need. She wanted him. God, she wanted him really, really bad. She closed her eyes for a moment willing herself to calm down. Balling her hands into fists, she fought the urge to just yank his head back and kiss him as if there were no tomorrow. To kiss him until they were both short of breath with the need to rip each other's clothes off, the need to be skin to skin. She thought she had herself under control until she opened her eyes again. All her control vanished when she met his gaze, his eyes burning bright with the same heat blazing through her body.

That was all it took. She needed him. Wanted him. She'd fought so hard not to let her attraction for him come to the surface again, but that one heated look destroyed all her good intentions.

Lifting her hand, she trailed her fingers over his scruff until she reached his mouth. Her fingers tickled when she brushed them softly over his lips. His hand caught hers, stopping her. She expected him to push her away, a part of her hoping he was stronger than she was. But he wasn't. He just kept staring at her, lust and need burning up the air between them. All the walls she'd erected to keep the flames of passion at bay crumbled down and fire rushed through her.

She needed to kiss him. Right now.


	11. Burning Bright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Thank you all so much for your comments. They put a smile on my face.**
> 
> **And yes, I was a tease. But I'm sure this chapter makes up for it. Enjoy!**

Killian couldn't resist her any longer. He'd fought his feelings for weeks, and he couldn't do it anymore. He needed to give in.

"Bloody hell," he growled as he let go of her fingers to wrap his hand around her neck and pull her down to him to crash his mouth against hers.

Finally, his lips were on hers again, the kiss as intoxicating as he remembered. She let out a whimper against his mouth when he grabbed her waist and pulled her into his lap. His erection pressed into the crack of her ass and she buried her fingers into his hair as she kissed him harder. He wanted to devour her, wanted to push his cock deep inside of her, wanted to feel her come around him again.

He tightened his arms around her waist as he stood up without letting go of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck to anchor herself as he carried her to the bedroom.

A part of him expected her to stop the madness when he lowered her onto the mattress, to tell him that this was a mistake they'd agreed not to repeat. But she didn't. She just grabbed his neck and pulled him down, kissing him in a frenzy that made his cock jerk in his pants. When they needed to come up for air her mouth curled into a mischievous smirk, her eyes sparkling as she drawled, "You're wearing way too many clothes."

"You, too."

He stood up and pulled the shirt over his head, cursing when the fabric snagged at his prosthetic. For a split second he contemplated removing it, but he didn't feel comfortable with showing her his stump just yet. He fumbled with the zipper of his pants as he looked up again, his breath stuttering out of his chest on a groan. She was already completely naked, her feet propped up on the mattress, her glistening pussy on display for him.

His pants dropped finally to the floor, his boxer briefs following a moment later. His rock-hard cock slapped against his stomach, pre-cum leaving a sticky trail on his skin as he let himself enjoy the view in front of him just a little longer. But she was apparently too impatient to wait him out, holding out her hand for him. He took it without a moment's hesitation, lying down beside her on the bed, shifting until his hard length pressed against her thigh.

"You're so beautiful, love."

He hadn't worshipped her breasts yet, too consumed with fucking her with his fingers, tongue, and cock during their last two encounters. But he would take his time now.

He trailed his hand down her throat and between her breasts, spreading his fingers out on her stomach as he leaned down to close his mouth over one nipple. He suckled it gently, tilting his head to meet her gaze as he bit down softly before flicking his tongue over it, watching her every reaction. Her back arched off the mattress, her nipple pushing deeper into his mouth. He gave it another sharp tug before releasing it to pay the same attention to her other nipple. She writhed underneath him, the fingers of one hand curled in a tight grip around the sheets while her other hand was buried in his hair, tugging at it hard whenever he bit down. He continued playing with her nipples, letting his hand trail down her stomach to find her wet and open for him. He rubbed two fingers over her entrance, never pushing in, content to drive her mad with need.

"Killian, please." Her hips bucked, her fingers tightening painfully in his hair. He pushed his fingers inside of her, pressing his thumb against her clit at the same time. "Oh my God."

She began to tremble as he fucked her with his fingers, moans spilling from her lips. But before she could fall over, he stopped. He went up on his knees, his cock pounding hard as he relished in the flush on her cheeks and down her chest, her nipples hard points, her pussy glistening with her arousal. He couldn't wait to taste her again, but they had all night. He could pleasure her with his tongue later, after he'd filled her with his seed. The thought of tasting their combined fluids dripping out of her almost made him come on the spot. But he would hold out. He wouldn't come until he was buried deep inside of her and her walls were milking him.

* * *

Emma couldn't believe that this was reality, not one of her dreams. She expected to wake up any second now, alone in her bed. But she didn't. Because she was really here. With him. In his bed. Both of them gloriously naked. He lowered himself between her legs, bracing himself on his elbows as he shifted atop of her until the tip of his cock brushed against her entrance.

"Ready, Swan?"

The muscles in his arms bulged as he kept himself still, his hair a mess from her fingers, his eyes a stormy gray as he waited for her answer. God, she needed him so damn much.

"Yes, so ready."

And then he slipped into her very, very slowly while his eyes bored into hers. Tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked a few times until she could see clearly again. This was nothing like their frenzied first time. He didn't move any faster or harder, even when she practically begged him. No, his thrusts never changed. For minutes he pulled out almost completely, hovering at her entrance before slipping back in excruciatingly slowly until he was buried until the hilt inside her, rocking his hips just a little and then doing it all over again until she wanted to slap him to get him to move faster.

"I could do this for hours," he rasped, pressing his lips against hers for a second before leaning back and looking down at her, his hips keeping up the infuriating rhythm while his deep, lilting voice drove her even more insane. "Letting my cock massage your walls until you're just so full of need. Until you can only think of finding your release and squeezing my cock. Until you can't wait any second longer for my cum to fill you. Until you beg me to give you a taste."

Jesus fucking Christ. She'd thought all the dirty talk from the last time was an exception because she'd pushed him too hard. But apparently he just loved to talk dirty in bed. And apparently he was kind of a sadist, too. Because every moan from her lips, every plea, was met with a smirk and he stopped every movement until she'd come back from the precipice. She didn't know how long he intended to torture her like that, or how long it would take until he lost the reins on his iron control and fucked her like she wanted him to. Apparently Killian needed some convincing.

"I want you to fill me up and then I want you to put your cock into my mouth so that I can lick it clean." Finally she saw the first crack in his maddening composure. His lips pressed tight together and his hips stuttered against hers. "I want to lick and suck and bite you all over until you're hard and ready for me again, so that I can straddle you and ride you until you see stars, until you fill me up again."

He snapped his hips forwards and she cried out in relief as he plunged deep inside her. For one heartbeat, she feared he wasn't finished with his torture, but the fear evaporated a moment later when he pulled out again and slammed back in. All she could do was hold on to him as he took her for a wild ride that pushed her higher and higher until the orgasm practically exploded inside of her, leaving her breathless and shaking, his cock thickening inside of her as his body froze atop of her before he followed her over the precipice.

Her eyes were still closed when he pulled out of her, the mattress shifting as he moved. When his calves brushed against her shoulders she opened her eyes again. His cock was mere inches away from her mouth covered with her juices and his seed. Her walls clenched and she licked her lips hungrily.

"Go ahead, love. You wanted to clean me up."

She opened her mouth and welcomed him in, sucking gently at his head and swirling her tongue around and around until he hissed and pulled back, his cock still too sensitive from his orgasm to let her play with him longer.

But she did make good on her promise, pushing and pulling until he lay flat on his back. She'd waited a very long time to have him completely naked and she wanted to take full advantage of it since she didn't really know if she would ever get another chance.

She started with a deep kiss, tangling her tongue with his for minutes. She left his mouth to nibble along his jawline until she reached his ear, tugging at his lobe and then kissing a trail down his neck, flicking her tongue against his Adam's apple before going lower, sucking lightly at the skin over his collarbone.

His breathing quickened when she trailed a path of kisses down his chest, a groan falling from his lips as she flicked her tongue over one of his nipples. Apparently, he loved to have his nipples played with. If she wasn't already strung tight with need again, she might have lingered there for a little while. But as it was, she licked her way down his happy trail, a zing of lust surging through her when his abdominal muscles flexed under her mouth. She avoided touching his cock, but noticed that it was already swelling again. He would be up to a second round in no time. But first, she wanted to follow his v muscle with her tongue, starting at his hip bone and slowly wandering down to his groin. How he managed to have such amazing musculature was a miracle to her, but she definitely appreciated it. Especially since she could drive him mad with want by nipping at it a few times. His growls and moans just spurned her on and she made sure not to touch his cock until his hips rocked upwards. She leaned back and pressed her hands on his hips, pushing him back down.

"Don't move."

"As the lady commands."

It was clear, judging from the hard tension in his stomach muscles that it cost him a lot to obey, but he did. She should reward him for that. She lowered her head and licked his cock from bottom to top, swirling her tongue around the head before swallowing him whole, letting him drop out of her mouth a second later. She repeated the teasing movements until he started to growl and curse, his fingers tightening in her hair every time she let him slip out of her mouth.

"You little vixen. Stop torturing me."

"Says the man who loves to torture  _me_."

"So you're just torturing yourself now?" He raised one eyebrow and smirked at her. "You know you want nothing more than to take my cock deep inside of you. I'm sure you're already soaking wet for me again. Your pussy all slippery from you arousal and my cum. Isn't that right, love?"

It was ridiculous how much his dirty talking turned her on. Her core pulsed in time with her heartbeat, demanding to be filled again. Sometimes she hated him for making her want him so much. And then the man had the audacity to smirk at her again and she hissed, "Fuck you."

"That's the plan," Killian growled, closing his fingers over her thigh. "If a certain blonde vixen would straddle me already."

"All right, you win," Emma grumbled before swinging her leg over his waist and lowering herself until her wet folds pressed against his erection.

A low groan rumbled out of his throat as he pushed his hips upwards. "No, love. We win both."

She couldn't argue with that, since she really wanted him inside of her again. Waiting any longer would be as much torture for her than it would be for him and she was running out of patience. She rocked her hips forward and tilted them so that she could position him hands-free. His breath stuttered out on a strangled moan when she pushed down to take his cock in. Bending forwards, she laid her head against his shoulder and didn't move. It was such an amazing feeling to have him stretch her this deliciously that she needed to just savor it for a few moments.

"Emma?" He sounded tortured and she smiled, loving having him at her mercy like this.

"Yeah?"

"Please move. I need you…" Whatever he wanted to say got lost in a moan when she lifted her hips a few inches and then took him back in.

"What do you need?" She kept herself completely still, even though her body screamed for her to move.

"Ride me, love." His voice was her undoing. All gravelly and low with need. "Please."

She shifted atop of him, biting down on her tongue to keep the moan from spilling out of her mouth. She should torture him some more, but she just couldn't do it. She needed to move. She needed to ride him. So she did. She rode him hard and fast until he stiffened under her. She pressed her fingers against her clit and flicked them over it, pumping her hips a few more times. Her climax crashed down over her, his cock jerking inside of her, filling her as her walls fluttered around him.

She slumped down on him afterwards, her heart racing in her chest. Sudden exhaustion threatened to pull her under, her mind foggy and her muscles lax as he rolled them over and slipped out of her. They should probably clean themselves up, but getting up was way too much effort, so she just curled against him and dropped into sleep.

She woke up in his arms when it was still dark outside, the warmth of his body pressing against her back, his arm wound tightly around her waist. She shifted slightly, swallowing down a wince as the movement made her aware of all the places on her body that ached. Ached deliciously.

She smiled softly when she turned her head to look at his face. She couldn't see much in the darkness, but she still wanted to trail her fingers over his cheeks. Maybe she could even slip under the covers and gave him a proper wake-up call. But it took only a few seconds for her to truly wake up and for reality to intrude.

The last time they'd had sex he'd shoved her away. She wasn't strong enough to go through that again. It had been an amazing night. She would not sully these memories with a less than stellar morning-after when the priest remembered his profession once again.

So she did the only thing she could. She slipped out of his arms and collected her clothes without waking him up. Minutes later, she was dressed and left his house through the back entrance, staying in the shadows until she reached Main Street. After all, she wouldn't want to out the priest by being seen slipping out of his house. This had been another one-time thing. No need to risk anything.

And maybe if she kept repeating it in her head over and over, she might convince herself at some point.

* * *

"Miss Swan?"

She whirled around, expecting to find him with an expression of guilt all over his face. But instead her heart stuttered in her chest when he shot her a lopsided smirk and pulled his arm forward, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers he'd hidden behind his back.

"Father Jones?"

She deliberately used his title, wanting to remind him why he'd fled the first time around. She just thought it wouldn't be any different the second time. But apparently she was wrong.

"You sneaked out of my bed at the crack of dawn." His voice turned lower as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he breathed, "You missed out on me eating you out until you screamed my name."

"I did?" she almost squeaked, looking around frantically to make sure no one was watching them, but the street was empty.

"Aye." He took a step back and tilted his head, his tongue coming out to lick obscenely over his bottom lip. "Want to remedy that?"

"Now?" she shrieked, embarrassment heating her cheeks when his mouth curled up into a satisfied smirk.

"As much as I'd like to devour you right here on the streets…" He closed the gap between them, his body brushing against hers as he leaned forward, his tongue flicking against her ear once. "You seem to be still at work, Deputy Swan."

"Right." She stepped backwards to put some much-needed distance between them. Otherwise she might jump the priest in public. "Of course."

"Tonight? My place? Say eight o'clock?"

She needed to ask Mary Margaret if she could keep an eye on Henry, the thought shooting a stab of guilt through her for abandoning her son two nights in a row. But since her son just told her a week ago that he was way too old for his mom to still hover over him like a helicopter, he would probably be completely okay with it.

"That should work."

"I look forward to seeing you then, Deputy Swan," he drawled, his eyes growing darker as he stepped closer again. She prepared herself for another lascivious comment and he didn't disappoint. "And fucking you with my tongue until you're dripping wet."

"You're a sadist, Father Jones," she growled, pressing her thighs together to hide the shaking of her legs.

"I can't wait to taste you again, love."

And with those infuriating words, he turned around and left her standing with her whole body humming in anticipation.

The hours until her shift ended dragged on and on, but eventually she clocked out and rushed home, jumping into the shower for a quick wash before throwing on clothes in record speed, practically running out of the apartment, eager to get to the church.

When she reached his house, she opted to use the back door, not wanting anyone to see her slip into the priest's house at night. She couldn't hear anything at first, fearing he might not be at home after all. That he'd changed his mind.

"Killian? Anyone home?"

"Aye, in the kitchen."

She hastened to the kitchen, stopping dead in her tracks in the doorframe when her gaze fell on him. He was barefoot and barechested, wearing only slacks that sat low on his hips, the v of his muscles pointing to the bulge in his pants that grew bigger under her eyes. She gulped hard as she let her gaze travel upwards, over his happy trail to the mat of hair spreading out over his well-defined pectorals up to his face. God, she could come from that sight alone.

"Hello, love."

Those two words said in his irresistible accent shot lust through her whole body, an embarrassing whimper spilling from her lips.

"Come here," he growled, his eyes devouring her from head to toe. "I can help you with that."

She stepped closer until she could lift her hands and splay her fingers over his chest. He leaned down to kiss her. Slowly, almost reverently. His knuckles brushed against her stomach as his nimble fingers opened the buttons of her blouse. It amazed her anew the things he could do with just one hand faster than others could with two. Seconds later her blouse fell to the floor before he snapped her bra open and let it join her blouse. She moaned into his mouth when his hand closed around her breast, kneading it for a moment before his fingers found her nipple and tugged it into a hard peak that throbbed with need.

"I think I should make good on my promise now." His hand moved over her chest, giving her other nipple the same attention.

"Promise?" she whispered, arching her back. She wanted his mouth on her. No matter where. Had that been his promise? She couldn't remember.

"Lose your pants, love. And hop on the table."

Her body burned with need so she didn't argue, especially since she wanted nothing more than to be naked. She opened her pants with shaking fingers, pushing everything down her thighs before hopping on the table.

"Just like that." His voice was getting lower, more hoarse as his fingers trailed down one of her legs, closing around her ankle and pushing it outwards. His prosthetic pressed against her other leg, telling her wordlessly to spread wide for him. She did so gladly, her core clenching when his eyes darkened with lust as he took her in, splayed out for him. "You're already wet for me. I approve."

She was still scrambling for a proper response when he dropped to his knees and brushed his scruff over her thigh. All coherent thought fled her brain when his lips closed around her clit and sucked it into his mouth. All she could do was grab his hair and push her hips up.

His tongue drove her mad, circling her clit and slipping through her folds without giving her any real release from the tension steadily building up in her body. She was trembling now, her inner walls squeezing around nothing. She desperately needed him to fill her with something. She really wasn't picky. Tongue, fingers, cock. She didn't care. She just wanted him to put something inside her.

"Killian, I…" Her voice left her when he closed his lips around her clit again and sucked hard. But it still wasn't enough. She ached all over. So she gripped his hair and pulled him backwards.

"I'm not finished with my meal," he growled, flicking his tongue over his lips, still wet with her arousal.

"Killian Jones, put your tongue into me now," she snapped, giving his hair a sharp tug. "It's bad form to go back on a promise."

He only smirked at her and drawled, "As you wish, love."

She should scold him for being so smug, but the man was a champion when it came to going down on her. She couldn't find it in her to speak at all besides moaning his name when he ate her out. Alternately fucking her with his tongue and fingers, making sure to also give her clit enough attention. It took him an embarrassingly short time to push her over the edge and when she came down from her high and could see clearly again she expected to see another smug grin on his face. Instead he just looked at her with pure hunger in his eyes.

"That's the vision I want to be greeted with every day." He cupped her core, trailing his fingers through her wetness. "Your folds swollen from your first orgasm, your clit peeking out to greet me, your nipples hard points begging me to suck them nice and slow." She spread her legs wider in a silent invitation for him to do exactly that. His fingers teased her entrance, never slipping in and then his hand was gone and she wanted to scream. "But you want my cock filling you, don't you?"

"Well…" She lifted one hand to trail it down her stomach, slipping her fingers through her folds. "I can always take matters into my own hands."

"That won't be necessary."

He grabbed her hand and pulled it away before reaching for his belt. He didn't bother with undressing completely, he just pushed her legs further apart and stepped up to the table, shoving his pants and boxer briefs down his thighs and letting them pool around his ankles. Emma was prepared to be left hanging for a little while longer, determined not to beg him this time. But thankfully, he apparently wasn't in the mood to make them both wait. He positioned himself at her entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself completely inside of her in one long slide. And then he fucked her right on the table, taking her with hard and fast thrusts until she could only scream his name as her second orgasm hit her. Her walls tightened around him, her orgasm going on and on while he kept thrusting into her until he stiffened against her and slammed into her one last time before succumbing to his own climax.

* * *

Emma had feared their friendship might suffer if they started sleeping together again, but strangely, it was as strong as before. They still talked for hours. Still met for lunch at least twice a week. He even still spent a lot of time with Henry, teaching him chess and sword-fighting. They realized they were both fans of Doctor Who and started watching it on Netflix, even getting Henry to watch it with them. It was as if nothing had changed. Except that they jumped each other whenever they found the time. And God, the sex was phenomenal.

Even now her body vibrated with anticipation. She'd never looked forward to a night shift like that. But Killian would join her very soon and would definitely make it less boring.

She understood that it was better for someone to be at the station on the weekends instead of just being on call. Almost every weekend, something happened and it did make more sense for someone to be already awake when the police was needed. But the time still dragged on during those shifts. She really couldn't wait for her distraction to finally arrive.

* * *

Killian had a big smile on his face as he slipped into the police station, his cock already hardening as he thought about where he could take her tonight. All those possibilities in the station...it was really hard to choose.

She didn't hear him step into the main office, and he took advantage of that, just studying her for a few minutes. She was so beautiful. And she wanted him, apparently as much as he wanted her. Strangely, ever since they started sleeping with each other again, he'd not had any regrets whatsoever. He should have, though. Maybe it was time to talk about it with Emma. Talk about their future.

But then she turned around and greeted him with a brilliant smile and all serious thoughts left his brain in the blink of an eye. He strolled over to her, giving his hips an extra swagger. Her smile broadened and he swooped down to kiss her deeply the moment he reached her.

He'd intended to seduce her slowly. To make her wait. To make her beg. But when he leaned back and saw her eyes hooded with lust, he couldn't go through with his well-thought-out plans. He just needed her. Now.

He pulled her up from the chair and made quick work of her belt, glad that she didn't wear her gun indoors. Apparently, she was in as much of a hurry as he was. Her knuckles pressed against his straining erection as he opened her pants. He dropped to his knees and reached for her shoes, almost ripping her shoelaces apart in his haste to get her naked. She chuckled softly above him, her fingers threading through his hair. He let out a shout of jubilation when he could finally yank the shoes of her feet, followed closely by her pants and panties. She climbed on her desk without any prompting, opening her legs wide in invitation. An invitation he was eager to take. He stepped between her thighs, shoving his clothes just far enough down to free his cock. He closed the last inches separating them, aligned himself and pushed deep. Papers fluttered to the floor and pens clattered down as he took her with hard, sharp thrusts, knowing she needed it fast right now. And so did he. A few thrusts later and one well-placed press of his fingers against her clit and she shattered around him, her walls closing around his cock like a vise and taking him with her over the edge.

But one time wasn't enough. The night was long, after all, and Emma needed to stay awake. He was more than happy to help with that.

He tongued her to another orgasm in the supply closet two hours later before sliding inside her and taking her against the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist. After that, he gave her a few hours to recover from her orgasm before he told her to hold on to the bars of the cell as the first signs of morning lightened the sky outside. He went down on her from behind before fucking her hard and fast once again while his hand alternated between twirling her nipple and slipping between her thighs to rub her clit until she begged him to take her over the edge. He gladly obliged, pumping his release into her as her walls milked him dry.

She saw him off shortly afterwards, her mouth curled up into a sleepy, but satisfied smile. He walked slowly home, his body thoroughly sated. Stumbling into his house with a goofy smile on his face, he only slipped out of his shoes before he crashed down on his bed for some much-needed sleep.


	12. Sacrifice

Emma was woken up by a soft purr in the vicinity of her feet. She smiled with her eyes still closed, stretching her legs until her toes brushed against a solid object. The volume of the purring increased and she chuckled when she opened her eyes slowly to find the kitten curled up at the end of the bed.

"Good morning, Rocket."

Upon hearing her voice the kitten stood up and stalked towards her, planting his small butt right beside one of her hands. She knew what he wanted her to do, even before Rocket bend forward and pushed his nose repeatedly against her fingers. He was such a cuddler.

"Okay, okay."

She pushed herself up and scooped Rocket into her arms, stroking her hand over his back, smiling when he started to purr again. For a minute she just enjoyed threading her fingers through Rocket's soft fur, postponing getting up as long as possible.

The sound of cupboards opening and closing in the kitchen told her that her solitude would be interrupted any second now. Deciding to wait until Henry came into the room to tell her she needed to get up because he was hungry, she closed her eyes, letting herself relax. It took only a few minutes before she heard footsteps in the hallway and opened her eyes again.

Henry burst into her room with a cup in his hand, the dark liquid almost spilling over the rim as he rushed towards her. The scent of coffee reached her and she let out a contented sigh.

"Mom, I'm late."

"It's not Mother's Day, is it?" she asked when Henry put the mug down on the nightstand. Normally he only brought her coffee in bed on special occasions or when he'd been up to something. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, checking his body over for any obvious injuries. She didn't find any, though that didn't mean there weren't any hidden under his clothes. "What did you do?"

Henry rolled his eyes at her and shook his head. "Nothing. But you didn't wake up in time."

"Do we have to be somewhere?"

"No, you don't have to be anywhere. Hence the coffee in bed." She furrowed her brow, totally at a loss. Her brain just wasn't capable of following her son's thoughts without caffeine coursing through her system. Henry huffed out an annoyed breath and said, "It's Sunday."

It still took her a few seconds to realize what her son was trying to tell her. "Ah, chess day."

"Yep, and I'm late." He was already out of the door before she could say anything else.

"Have you eaten breakfast?" she yelled after him, already prepared to get up and make him some.

"Yes, sir," the muffled reply came from the kitchen and she opened her mouth to call him back to scold him for his sarcastic tone when the sound of the front door closing made it a moot point.

Leaning back against the pillow, she decided to take advantage of the fact that she didn't need to get up to have her first cup of coffee and spend a few more relaxed minutes in bed. Tightening her hand around Rocket's fur to keep him in place, she leaned sideways to reach for the mug.

She almost groaned when she took her first sip. Her son could make quite a good cup of coffee. She could definitely get used to that. Maybe she could convince Henry to make breakfast every Sunday from now on. She chortled as she imagined how that conversation would go. She could almost see the incredulous expression on Henry's face when she closed her eyes.

Taking another sip, she stretched again languidly, smiling broadly when her body ached in all the right places. God, the sex marathon last night at the station had been so worth not having enough sleep. She wondered if Killian looked as sleep-deprived as she probably did. She didn't envy him having to deal with her energetic son for a few hours, though she knew he wouldn't mind.

Putting the cup back on the nightstand, she lay back down, contemplating closing her eyes for another round of sleep. As she turned her head on the pillow she imagined Killian lying beside her. She would love to have him wake up beside her, seeing his sleep-rumpled self every morning. Or seeing him walking into the room with a cup of coffee for her in hand, clad in just his low-hanging sweatpants, the ones she could rid him off with just a tug. He would crawl into bed with her and disappear under the sheet, settling himself between her legs and giving her one of those toe-curling orgasms he was so good in delivering with only his fingers and mouth. And then he would lay down beside her, letting her wrap her hand around his hard cock and she would pump him until he couldn't take it any longer and roll on top of her and take her with deep, hard thrusts until she fell over the edge another time. Afterwards they would cuddle together, maybe catch a few more hours of sleep before they needed to get up. They would make breakfast together, teasing Henry when he joined them with his usual grumbly teenage morning self. They would sit down together, make plans for the day and…she jolted up from her slouched state against the pillow, ignoring Rocket's mad dash from the bed and his annoyed meow.

"Fuck," she whispered, dropping back against the headboard. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

She'd gone and done it. The unthinkable. Something she'd told herself over and over again not to do. She shouldn't have these kind of thoughts about Killian. Thoughts of him living with them. Having him by her side all the time.

God, she was such a fool.

She'd gone and fallen in love with him. She was in love with a priest.

Her stomach revolted, a wave of nausea washing over her. She gulped hard, pressing her hand against her stomach in the hopes of keeping the coffee down. A few more gulps and her stomach settled again, but her mind was still reeling.

This couldn't happen. It was just supposed to be about sex, about getting the insane physical attraction they felt out of their systems. They should have known better. That might have worked at the beginning, but not after they'd actually become good friends. Why had she let it get that far?

Taking in a shuddering breath, she tried to calm herself down. But her thoughts just kept on spinning. Was it really that bad? Maybe they could have a future together. For a few seconds she let herself hope for a good outcome, but then reality intruded and smacked her right in the face.

He was a priest. He wasn't allowed to be with a woman. She had known that from the start, knew they could never have more than an affair. An affair that had run its course. Her hands started to tremble when she realized what she had to do. She wouldn't make him choose. It wasn't fair. So she would make the choice for him.

She would end it. For good.

She pressed her eyes closed as her determination wavered for a moment and tears sprang into her eyes. She gulped hard once. Twice. Until she had herself under control.

If she ignored her heart breaking into a million pieces inside her chest.

* * *

The church was unusually quiet for this time of the day, but not that unexpected considering that Christmas was only a week away. Everything got more hectic in those last days. People didn't have time to sit down and just breathe. Killian remembered the times he'd been the same before he'd taken the cloth. Now he used the time before Christmas to quiet down the noise, deliberately swim against the tide, so to speak. The first Christmas as a priest he'd still been a mess, and forcing himself to sit down and just  _be_ had helped a lot. This time of the year he always felt the closest to God and the Savior, remembered why he became a priest in the first place.

But of course this year was a little different. Because of Emma. The last weeks had been a whirlwind ever since they'd started sleeping together again. He hadn't come up for air since then. He didn't want to. Now that he actually had time to think, though, he couldn't keep his mind from looking at what they were doing very closely. Leaning back and really listening into himself, hearing what his heart was telling him.

He loved her. Really, truly loved her. He didn't know when exactly it had happened. But it did. His heart belonged to her. The question now was what he was supposed to do about it.

Faith had saved his life when he was close to giving up on everything, to let himself just waste away. Becoming a priest had given him a new purpose. He wasn't sure if turning his back on it now wouldn't push him back into the darkness he'd pulled himself out of. On the other hand, ever since he'd met Emma she'd been a new beacon of light in his life. Making his life shine bright with promise. Especially after he'd given up fighting his feelings for her.

But could he give it all up for her? For love? Fully risk his heart again without knowing what the future held for him? For them?

He thought he could. Their love might be strong enough. But he was getting ahead of himself here. He didn't really know if she felt the same way. It was time to have a real conversation. It was time for them to talk.

As if his mind had conjured her up the door of the church creaked open and Emma stepped in. He couldn't help grinning like a loon as she walked towards him, but when the lights fell on her face and he could see her clearly the grin dropped from his face in the blink of an eye.

"We need to talk," she told him in a determined voice, her whole posture stiff with tension.

Killian couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such a serious expression on her face, and his stomach tightened with dread. Something was wrong.

"Aye, we do," he replied softly, closing his hand around her forearm and pulling her gently down the aisle. "Let's take this to my office."

With every step his heart grew heavier, his brain telling him something his heart didn't want to hear. This was bad, definitely not the talk he'd imagined having with her just a few minutes ago. When the door to his office fell shut behind them, the sound made him almost jump out of his skin. He wasn't prepared for this. He didn't think...

"This isn't working for me anymore," her harsh voice whipped through the office, and he cringed. He took in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders before he faced her. He didn't know what he expected to see, but he definitely wasn't expecting the cold blazing out of her eyes. Only a few hours ago he'd come deep inside of her as she cried out his name, her walls clamping tight around him. What had happened in between? He didn't have a clue. He opened his mouth to ask her, but she didn't let him get a word in, her voice ice cold as she said, "Don't get me wrong. It was awesome while it lasted. But all good things have to come to an end. And this is it."

"I see," he pressed out past the lump in his throat. He wanted to say more but he could see she'd made up her mind, and he wouldn't profess his love to her now after she'd just kicked him to the curb without even a hint of regret. Maybe he should have been relieved that he didn't need to make the hard decision after all, but instead the loss of all the things they could have had together was a blow that left him reeling. His heart hurt in his chest as he tried to not let her see how deep her words had devastated him. He managed to force his mouth into a smile that hopefully looked real, his voice thankfully not wavering as he said, "You're right. We both knew it had to end eventually."

"Exactly," she replied in a clipped tone, but then her features suddenly softened, a glimpse of an emotion Killian couldn't decipher flashing over her eyes. "Take care of yourself, Killian."

She leaned up and pressed a brief kiss against his cheek, the chaste touch of her lips nearly breaking him. He balled his hand into a fist to keep himself from grabbing her and hauling her into his arms, from spilling out what he was feeling for her.

"You, too."

A moment later she was gone. Truly gone. And all he could do was fall into the chair behind his desk and bury his face in his hand, giving up the fight to hold back the tears and just let them stream down his face as he cried for a love that never got the chance to bloom.

* * *

Emma left the church through the side entrance, her heart thumping painfully in her chest. Her body started to shake uncontrollably, the iron control she had on her emotions cracking apart like the ice on a frozen lake in spring. But she needed to hold it together for a little longer, just for a few more minutes. Miraculously, she managed to stay strong all the way to her car and across town. She didn't let herself even shed one tear until she could stop at the side of the road. Jumping out, she practically ran towards the cabin, asking herself on the way why she'd come here of all places. It was a mystery to her. Apparently she really had a huge masochistic side.

Her hands were damp with perspiration as she fumbled with the keys, cursing loudly when it took her seemingly forever to fit the key in the lock and open the door. The moment the door closed behind her she just slid to the ground, her feet giving out under her. Pulling her legs towards her, she buried her face against her knees and let herself fall apart. She cried until she didn't have any tears left, until her nose was clogged, her throat raw and her eyes almost swollen shut.

Her breaths were still uneven as she tried to pull herself together again, knowing that she only had about an hour before she needed to go back and face her new reality. A reality without Killian. She pressed her hand against her chest, her fingers curling around the locket he had given her, the metal digging hard into her skin. She didn't know how long it would take for the hurt to fade. The way she'd decided to end it with Killian assured that she destroyed their friendship, too. It seemed to be the right decision. The only decision she could make. But now all she could feel was bone-deep anguish about the loss.

A sob started deep in her throat but she gulped it down again, tightening her fingers around the locket, holding onto the only thing she had left of him. It shouldn't hurt this much. She'd told herself over and over again that she couldn't let herself fall for the priest. She knew from the beginning that they couldn't have a relationship. That an affair was all they could have. Even if calling what they had together an affair felt so, so wrong. It was good that she ended it. He was a priest, and he wanted to stay a priest. And if she was honest with herself, she didn't really want him to choose her. She was too afraid of him resenting her later if he gave up the priesthood for her. Maybe not in a month or even a year, but sometime down the road he would have questioned his choice. It was better to put an end to it before the feelings ran too deep.

Even if her brain told her she'd made the right decision, her heart was bleeding. The time with him had been perfect. Amazing sex paired with hours-long conversations about everything and nothing. And there'd been a lot of laughter. She'd been so happy with him, despite the dark shadow the illicitness of their affair always cast lingering somewhere in the deepest recesses of her mind.

But it was over now. And she had to live with that. Even if right now the thought of never being in his arms again, of never talking to him for hours again, of never laughing with him again threatened to tear her apart. But life had to go on, it always did. It didn't stop just because she didn't know how to get up and put on a brave face. But she had to. She needed to hide all her feelings behind an impenetrable mask. No one could know why she felt so utterly devastated.

Maybe that was for the best. Maybe if she looked at everything she'd had with Killian as just a dream, a fantasy she'd been living in for a few weeks, the healing process would start sooner.

Emma was totally exhausted when she finally made her way back to town an hour later. The hurt seemed to be a physical thing, weighing her whole body down. As she walked up to their apartment complex she saw someone sitting on the steps. She didn't pay them much attention first, but then they stood up and walked towards her. It took her only a few seconds to recognize who it was and she stumbled, just catching herself before she face-planted.

It couldn't be. He couldn't be here. It wasn't possible. Hadn't her day been hard enough already? Maybe there was really a God, one who was punishing her for having the audacity to seduce a priest.

Her thoughts spiraled out of control as she watched the man come closer until he stopped a few feet in front of her. He hadn't changed much since the last time she saw him. Even the smile that curled his mouth upwards was as crooked and boyish.

"Hello, Emma."

She blinked once, twice, and even a third time just to make sure she didn't imagine the man standing in front of her. But no, he was real.

After almost thirteen years Neal Cassidy had stepped back into her life.


	13. The Savior

"Why the hell are you here?" Emma snapped, all the hurt he'd caused rushing back, piling atop of the heartache she was already feeling from losing Killian.

"We probably shouldn't discuss this out in the open."

His shifty attitude and consistent looking around set off warning bells in her head. She definitely didn't need Neal's brand of news on top of everything else. But for now she stayed silent as she walked up to their apartment with him following her closely. A barrage of thoughts swirled in her head. Was he here for Henry? How did he even know about him? He hadn't tried to contact her even once over the last decade. What was he doing here now?

"Are the police searching for you again?" Emma hissed the moment she'd pushed the door to their apartment closed, glad that Henry was gone on another sleepover. It spared her from finding an explanation for the sudden appearance of his father. Turning around, she faced her ex again, determined to not let him get to her. "I haven't seen you in almost thirteen years. I'm not going to jail again for a crime you've committed."

"No, it's nothing like that," Neal said hastily, lifting his hand in application, looking at least a little chagrined. Which he should. He'd been an absolute jerk back then. Leaving her to take the fall for his crimes. Leaving her pregnant. So he didn't know that at the time. But still.

Emma let out a shuddering breath, the effort it took to deal with the sudden appearance of her ex almost too much for her right now.

"Are you all right, Emma?" Neal asked softly, clear worry on his face. "You look...exhausted."

_I had an affair with a priest and I just ended it even though I'm madly in love with him._ The words were on the tip of her tongue, but Neal was the last person she would confide in.

"No, I'm not all right," she growled, wondering if she looked as drained as she felt. Not that it was any of Neal's business, anyways. "My ex who I haven't seen in thirteen years suddenly appears on my doorstep and wants to talk to me. Excuse me for not being perfectly okay with that."

Neal watched her closely before apparently deciding to be satisfied with that explanation. "This will take a while. Can I have a cup of coffee, please?"

He looked as though he might need something way stronger. Lines dug deep around his eyes and mouth. He looked as if he hadn't really slept in days. But she would not feel pity for him, he didn't deserve it. A cup of coffee she could do, though. "Sure."

Emma busied herself with making the coffee, her mind going a mile a minute as she surreptitiously glanced at her ex from time to time. When they finally settled down at the kitchen bar, she crossed her arms over her chest and nailed him with a determined gaze. "Shoot."

He fidgeted with the teaspoon for a second, twirling it around his fingers before dropping it with a loud clatter. When his eyes found hers again her heart started to hammer in her chest.

"It's...you probably won't believe me. It'd be completely understandable. But I need you to believe me. Or at least believe me enough to drink this."

He pulled out a small vial with a clear liquid in it and put it on the table between them. It was an ominous, vivid purple color.

"What's that? I'm not drinking that."

Neal hesitated, avoiding her eyes as he fumbled with the vial. But then he straightened his shoulders and met her gaze, determination in every line of his face. She still wasn't prepared for his next words. "It's a memory potion."

Emma gaped at him for a moment before she just burst into laughter. Had he lost his marbles somewhere over the last decade? Apparently, because he didn't crack up with her.

"Are you serious?"

His facial expression didn't change, he just nodded and pushed the vial towards her. She looked down at the liquid, an irrational fear closing her throat up. As if the liquid could swirl out of the vial at any moment and just flow into her mouth. She swallowed down the hysterical laughter that wanted to come out, entwining her hands to give her some focal point in this madness.

"Damn, you are serious. Are you a member of some kind of cult?" Worry crashed down over her. She might still hate what he'd done to her, but he was Henry's father. "You need help getting out?"

"Gosh, Emma," he groaned, letting his head drop on his folded hands. She really started worrying about him now. She looked around for some kind of weapon in case her ex suddenly decided to go completely nuts and attack her. But when he looked up again he didn't have an eerie glance in his eyes, he just looked exhausted. "I'm not insane or delusional or coerced into believing something." He took in a deep breath, letting it out on a deep sigh."Though sometimes I wish all of this was only a figment of my imagination and not our reality."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" she practically growled, still not sure she wasn't dealing with a crazy person here.

He rubbed one hand over his face before taking in a deep breath. "I'm just gonna jump right in. And please just hear me out, okay?"

"Fine. Start talking."

"You're the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. They sent you to this world when you were only a few minutes old to save your life from the Evil Queen. The whole Enchanted Forest was brought here into this world, to Storybrooke, on a curse Regina casted. A curse you broke when Henry brought you here. You're the Savior, Emma. And this town needs you again. I need you to drink this." His fingers tapped against the vial, his whole body practically pleading with her to do the unthinkable. Like drinking some unknown liquid her ex had offered her. The ex she hadn't seen in thirteen years. His voice sounded defeated when he spoke again, "And when you remember everything you'll understand."

His earnest expression made her lean back and think through all the pros and cons of actually drinking it. Even contemplating doing it seemed insane, but a part of her just wanted to down it to shut her ex up and show him that he was delusional. What could it hurt, anyways? He wouldn't have come all this way to kill her, would he?

Maybe the ache over losing Killian made her reckless, but she grabbed the vial and uncorked it, hesitating only a moment before she brought it up to her face and tilted it so that the liquid trickled into her mouth. Before she could overthink it, she swallowed.

The memories assaulted her almost immediately, rushing through her brain, jumbling all over each other, threatening to steal all the air out of her lungs. It seemed to go on forever but when she was finally able to breathe normally again only seconds had gone by. Her heart was thumping hard in her chest, sweat breaking out over her forehead. She pressed her hands hard against the wooden surface of the table to stop the mad trembling of her fingers. This wasn't possible. Losing Killian must have pushed her into insanity. This wasn't real. But when she opened her eyes and looked at her ex she just knew he'd told her the truth.

"Wow, I…" she trailed off, licking her lips, her throat bone dry all of a sudden. With shaking fingers she reached for her coffee, gulping it down greedily.

"Welcome back, Emma," Neal said softly when she put the mug down, giving her a shaky smile.

"I...I need a minute."

She jumped up, her chair clattering to the floor as she rushed towards the bathroom, black spots appearing in her vision as she stumbled into it, smashing the door closed behind her. Her breath turned choppy as she leaned over the sink. Turning on the faucet, she splashed cold water onto her face.

_Breathe, Swan. Just breathe._

It took her a few minutes until she got her breathing normalized again. A look in the mirror didn't make it any easier to not lose her shit all over again. In hindsight the last months had been a blessing. Not being the Savior. Just living like a normal human being for a change. Living a relatively happy and normal life.

This had gone to hell in a handbasket over the last hours. Breaking up with Killian just to find out that the life she was living over the last few months was a complete pipe dream. Her hands started to shake again as she realized what a clusterfuck she was facing now. But face it she would. Straightening her shoulders, she looked at her reflection again, ignoring the expression of fear that flickered through her eyes.

"You're the Savior. You got this."

The pep talk didn't really help, though. She still was rattled, still didn't know how to handle the situation. But as the saying went...one step at a time. Starting with going back to her ex and hearing the whole story.

Taking in a deep breath, she turned towards the door and stepped out, gathering all the strength she had left in her body to deal with whatever Neal would tell her. She dropped down on her chair again and closed her hands around her mug with the now cold coffee. It didn't really matter. She didn't want to drink it anyway. She just needed to hold on to something.

Stealing herself, she looked up and met Neal's understanding gaze. "All right, start from the beginning."

"Pan's curse," he said, leaning back into his chair, clearly getting comfortabe for a long story. Damn, she really didn't want to deal with another crisis. But here she was. "I have no explanation for why I was the only one who remembered everything, who wasn't affected by the curse. Maybe because that maniac was my grandfather. But I did remember. I just couldn't do anything about it at first since I wasn't here with all of you."

"Where have you been?"

"For some reason, I was the only one who got sent back to the Enchanted Forest. You all stayed here, including you and Henry. Why you two weren't able to cross the yellow line and live the life Regina thought you could have…" He shrugged his shoulders, trying to smile but failing. Sighing softly, he shook his head. "I don't know, Emma. None of this makes much sense." He let out a bitter laugh, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his mug hard as if it was the only thing that kept him right here. Not really a surprise, considering what he must have been through over the last months. She suppressed the urge to pull him into her arms and just hug him. Having all her memories back didn't mean she was ready to acknowledge the tentative connection they'd managed to form before Pan's curse threw them all for a loop. She almost did it anyways when he locked eyes with her again, the haggard expression on his face pulling at her heartstrings. "But that's par for the course for us, isn't it? With me being the son of the Dark One and you the Savior?"

Yeah, having magic in their lives definitely didn't make it any easier. "What happened?"

"It took me a few days of searching the woods for all of you to realize that I've been the only one who'd been transported back to the Enchanted Forest. But still I hoped...I still kind of expected my father to pop up out of nowhere at any moment. Strangely enough, I'd even have welcomed the cackling maniac he used to be. But I think he's truly gone."

The grief darkening his eyes made her swallow around the lump suddenly forming in her throat. Gold had made a lot of bad decisions in his life, but he'd been Neal's father. Of course he would feel his loss deeply. Leaning forward, she put her hand on one of Neal's and squeezed it. "I'm sorry, Neal."

"He was the Dark One, Emma." Neal turned his fingers and grabbed her hand in a tight grip for a few moments before releasing it. "Power was always the most important thing to him. Even until the end."

She knew him well enough to not push him. Maybe later they could sit down and talk. Right now they had other things to worry about. "How did you get back here?"

"A magic bean, of course," Neal replied, the grin pulling his mouth up telling her that he didn't acquire it legally.

"Let me guess...you stole it."

Neal chuckled, his eyes lightening up as he said, "Yep, right from under Blackbeard's nose."

"Do I even want to know how you've managed that?" Emma asked, rolling her eyes at her ex, glad that the change in topic lightened the mood just a little bit.

"It actually wasn't that hard. Just needed to put a few drops of sleep potion in their rum cask. Pirates love their rum."

"Yeah, I know." Emma smiled when she remembered how often Hook had pulled out his rum flask in Neverland. At one point it had annoyed her so much that she'd asked him if rum was his solution for everything.

"It definitely doesn't hurt," she whispered, hearing the words in his accented voice in her head made her truly smile. Something she was in desperate need of right about now. She'd take all the happy thoughts she could get.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Just something Hook said a while back." Ignoring Neal's raised eyebrows, she leaned back in her chair again, knowing they didn't have the time to stay on lighter topics. "Do you have any idea how we can break this curse?"

"Yeah, I think I know how." The smile dropped of Neal's face, his expression turning serious again. "There's only one way. And if the seer I've come across is right we need to hurry."

"Hurry?" Emma asked, her stomach clenching with dread.

"The curse will fall apart eventually. If it isn't broken in the next seven days…"

Neal shifted on his seat, averting his gaze again. Oh, this was so not something she wanted to hear. "Then what?"

His whole posture stiffened, the hair on the back of her neck standing up when his eyes met hers.

"We will all cease to exist."

Knowing a blow was coming still didn't prepare you properly for the impact. All the air left her lungs, a cold shiver running through her body as Neal's words settled in her mind. A feeling of dizziness washed over her and she had to bite down on her tongue to keep herself conscious. There wasn't the time for her to swoon. They needed to find a solution. Fast.

Grasping for anything that could keep her from totally freaking out, her mind went to the open case file that was still sitting on her desk. "Might be the reason why people disappeared in the first weeks."

"They did?"

Emma told him everything that happened right after the curse hit. Just speaking helped her pull herself together and shove back the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. The Savior didn't have time for fear, even if Emma would have liked to just be able to give in.

"Might be an explanation. Though the seer wasn't very clear," Neal said, after she'd finished her story. "They never see a clear picture, only glimpses of what will happen. But the end...she was very clear about the end."

"An apocalypse?" Emma asked, saying it out loud not making it any easier to accept.

"Kind of. Just not a worldwide event. It will only affect Storybrooke and everyone and everything that lives inside its borders."

"We can't evacuate everyone, I guess."

"Unlikely. Me, you, and Henry were always the only one who could cross the town line. And apparently the curse is preventing you two from leaving, too."

Not that she would have left the town without trying to save everyone else in it. But she could have told Neal to take Henry and leave. But judging by the determined expression on her ex's face he might not have seen reason even if it had been a possibility. But fantasizing about things that couldn't happen was pointless.

"So how do we break it?"

"Like any other curse. But with a twist." Neal started to shift again and Emma groaned inwardly. What now? Didn't the universe already throw enough at her today? Apparently not. "True Love's Kiss. But not anyone's will do. It must be the Savior. The seer was adamant about that. No one else can break it."

"True Love's Kiss? From the Savior?" So she was the only one who could save the town. Again. Great. Just great. "I guess, kissing Henry won't work again?"

"Probably not. I wanted her to elaborate about how to break the curse. But it was all very cryptic. She just said it had to be a lover's kiss. And it has to be a new love."

"A new love?" Emma frowned, the addition of the adjective throwing her a little. Not that her old love would have helped anyways. She wasn't in love with Neal anymore. Kissing him would definitely not do anything. What put her in a bit of a pinch. "But there is no one. I don't..."

"You sure about that, Emma?" Neal asked, his voice taking on an accusing tone as he said, "I was with you in Neverland for a few days. Hook and you seemed to be getting very chummy."

"You have no right, absolutely none, to give me that tone," Emma shot back, old anger and hurt about his betrayal hitting her square in the chest. "You had your chance years ago."

"I know. And I blew it. Spectacularly."

Emma stayed silent. She didn't want to get in an argument about that right now. But she didn't know what else to say in the face of their current dilemma. So she just said nothing. And neither did Neal. As the silence held on Emma's thoughts drifted to the pirate, her heart missing a beat as she remembered all of a sudden how this shitty day had started.

"Hook, oh my God. I...he…I slept with him and then I pushed him away and…" Emma suddenly just started cackling like a maniac, wondering if she was truly losing it now. "A pirate turned into a priest."

"What?"

"Nothing." Emma waved him off. "Long story. And I'm definitely not in the mood to fill you in about everything that happened here while you were away."

"Right." Uncomfortable silence descended again until Neal cleared his throat. But he didn't say anything until Emma looked up at him. She couldn't remember ever seeing this much compassion on his face, and it made her throat all tighten up again. His sincerity didn't help the lump in her throat, and the words he said making it even harder to breathe. "He loves you, Emma. He looks at you like he'd looked at the picture of my mother."

"He promised me he would win my heart. And he kind of did." After all, she did fall in love with him. But that was when she didn't have all her memories. She'd fallen in love with a priest. Was she really able to love the pirate as much as the priest? She just wasn't sure of anything anymore since Neal had dropped that bomb on her. She'd never ever wanted to fall in love again. Never wanted to get hurt like that again until she met Killian. But still. "True Love? I don't think I'm capable of ever letting myself fall that hard. Not after you."

"I know I screwed up. Big time."

"You think?" Emma barked, gritting her teeth to keep her temper in check. It wouldn't help anyone if she ripped Neal's head off, but she still snapped at him, "I had to give birth to Henry in prison while handcuffed to a hospital bed. I had to give him up so that he could have a great life. Screwed up is putting it mildly. Very mildly."

"I can't tell you how sorry I am about all the things I put you through. But Emma…" When he trailed off she felt the sudden urge to smack him. Or anything. She just wanted to punch something. She needed a break. Was that too much to ask? The understanding tone of Neal's voice just grated on her nerves even further, even though she knew what he said was true. "Don't give up on true love. You of all people deserve to find it. Maybe you've already found it. Think about it, Emma. I know it puts an insane pressure on you. But you are really the only one who can save this town. If you really love Hook, you should try to let your guard down and let him really in."

"I...this is a lot to take in." She just needed to breathe, to have time to think it all over. "I need some time to process it all."

"Of course. Just remember we're on a deadline here." Neal stood up, taking two steps toward her before he stopped abruptly. She was glad he did. Her skin felt too small for her body right now. She was coiled tight. A touch might splinter her into a million pieces. She just wanted him gone. He hesitated for a second but then walked towards the door. Stopping in the doorway, he turned around to her, his voice barely audible as he said, "If you have any more questions or just want to talk...I'll be at my Dad's shop."

And then he walked out and she was finally alone. She let out a shuddering breath and looked around, hoping against all hope that someone would jump out from around the corner and yell 'Gotcha!'. But of course that didn't happen, because none of this was a joke. It was a big, ugly mess she had no idea how to solve.

Her eyes wandered to the liquor cabinet and she stood up slowly. Opening the door, she looked at the few bottles she had in there, choosing the still-full bottle of rum. She poured a healthy dose into a glass and raised it, watching the amber liquid shimmer in the light for a few seconds. The rum wouldn't help her find a solution for her problems, but…

"It definitely doesn't hurt."


	14. Taking the Leap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I hope you all had some great Christmas days! Thank you so much for your continued support.**
> 
> **sambethe made another amazing artwork for this chapter, capturing this pivotal moment for CS perfectly.**

Emma had only planned to sit down on the couch and rest her eyes for a minute after downing the shot of rum. But the day must have exhausted her more than she'd thought, because she'd woken up to sun streaming into the apartment and a crick in her neck. The sharp stab of pain when she'd turned her head had reminded her of the massage Killian had given her and where it had eventually ended. Another sort of pain had zinged through her body as she'd remembered ending their affair yesterday, followed closely by the memories of the visit of her ex and the fact that he'd turned her world upside down.

Before she'd had any time to dwell on how exactly she was supposed to approach the priest and kiss him in the hopes that the love she felt for him was enough to break the freaking curse Henry had entered the apartment and every thoughts of kisses and curses had to be put on the backburner for a while.

Now she was alone again, her son was at school, and she was left with the chaos that was her life now.

Emma still couldn't really grasp it, though. The story Neal had told her seemed totally bonkers. But she'd remembered. She drank the potion he'd given her because while she might not be in love with him anymore - hadn't been for a very long time - she still loved him despite everything she'd been through because of him. She didn't think he would actually poison her. Since he wouldn't gain anything from her death. Neal had a lot of faults, but he was still Henry's father, and once upon a time she'd loved him deeply.

So she drank the funny tasting liquid just to placate him, not expecting that anything would happen. But it did. Thousands and thousands of memories had assaulted her, flitted through her mind in technicolor at high speed. The day Henry appeared at her door to bring her back to Storybrooke. Everything that had happened when she arrived in town, thinking that she only brought a lost boy home to his parent. It had been so much more complicated than that. She had found her parents. Found out that she was actually a princess.

And the Savior.

Her life had been a whirlwind of unbelievable events from then on. Jumping through a portal to the Enchanted Forest where she met a certain pirate with whom she climbed up a beanstalk, a pirate that she got closer and closer to when he helped her get to Neverland to rescue her son from the clutches of a madman.

And then Pan's Curse hit the town.

She still couldn't fathom how that had all worked. Parts of her memories were intact while she knew for a fact that Killian's memories had been almost completely altered. But she'd really believed that she'd raised Henry, didn't give him up all those years ago. That still hurt. Because the fabricated memories of her life with him from the day he was born were still in her head. She knew they were fake, no matter how much she wished they weren't.

She let out a shuddering breath as she went over her memories of the last few months. Memories she had actually made. And front and center to almost all those memories was one single person.

Killian Jones. The priest who was actually a pirate. Captain Hook.

She wondered if Killian had had dreams about her, too. If deep down in his mind memories of her had survived the curse and came back to the surface in his dreams. He'd promised her he would win her heart and he had. She just wasn't sure if it was enough. She fell in love with a priest over the last few months, fell in love with the person Killian was as a priest.

But was that real? Did he love her as much as she loved him? Would he still love her when all his memories were back?

After all, having all  _her_ memories back made her way more guarded again. She'd promised herself after she'd given Henry away that she would never love someone ever again. But those memories had been gone the last few months. They weren't there to keep her from falling in love with a person she already knew before the curse. Killian had managed to pierce through all the walls she'd built around her heart. Those walls hadn't been as thick while she'd been in the clutches of the curse. He'd practically just walked through them, even though loving a priest was prone to end in disaster. She'd let herself fall anyways. She just wasn't sure anymore if she could hold on to that kind of love now that she had her memories back.

She was afraid. Scared shitless. But if Neal was right – and she had to assume he was – she couldn't shy away. The only one she loved maybe deeply enough to break the curse was the pirate.

But was she brave enough to take the jump without a safety net, hoping he'd catch her on the other side? Because nothing else would work. She knew that. She had to believe wholeheartedly in their love. In them.

The lives of dozens of people depended on her taking that leap. She just hoped she was strong enough to save them all.

* * *

Killian woke up with a raging headache and cottonmouth, wishing he could just turn around and go back to sleep. But duty called. His parishioners needed him. He couldn't just take a sick day no matter how heartbroken he was.

Stumbling out of bed and into the bathroom, he took one look at himself in the mirror and swallowed a curse. He looked terrible. No surprise there, since he'd emptied the bottle of rum hidden in his desk last night after Emma had left him. He hadn't even thought about dulling the effect of the alcohol by getting food into his empty stomach. Of course he looked like death warmed over and felt like it.

After having a hearty breakfast and some good old tea he felt at least slightly human again. He even managed to not think too much about Emma for about an hour, but when he stepped into the church that short reprieve came to an end, especially when his eyes fell on the confessional booth. He just managed to get to the nearest pew before his legs gave out under him and he forced his eyes towards the altar and the cross behind it.

"Help me please?" he whispered, falling to his knees and bowing his head, silently asking for a sign from above, for something that would help him deal with the pain.

But of course he didn't get an answer. For the first time since he'd become a priest, he didn't find solace in his faith. He'd broken his vows over and over again with Emma, enjoyed almost every second of it. He should probably repent now, but he couldn't find it in him to regret it. He'd fallen in love. And he couldn't just fall out of love with her. He knew he needed time to heal. Knew his faith would help him with that eventually. But right now the only thing he felt was utter heartbreak.

Maybe he needed to physically move on. Start fresh in a new town. He liked Storybrooke, but he didn't know if he could stay here and run into Emma all the time. That was inevitable in a small town like Storybrooke.

He would think about it. Spent some time in prayer until he was steady on his feet again. Solid in his faith again. But deep down he knew that leaving Storybrooke might be the best course of action. Cutting all the ties. Faith had gotten him through a rough time before. He just needed to believe it would do so once again.

* * *

It had taken her a few hours to talk herself up, to find enough courage to face Killian again. After the things she'd said to him yesterday she knew she had her work cut out for her. Now she was standing in front of the church with a racing heart and a mind full of doubts.

Could she really risk it? Would it even work?

But she had to try. She couldn't chicken out. Too much depended on her going through with it. With a deep breath she reached for the door, opened it and entered the church.

She couldn't see much at first, her eyes adjusting from the bright sun outside to the dim lighting in the church. After a few seconds she was able to make out a figure sitting in the first pew. She recognized Killian immediately. But he didn't look back. He was apparently deep in prayer, judging by his bowed head. She almost turned around again, probably would have if a hell of a lot of lives weren't on the line here.

As she walked slowly down the aisle the click of her shoes echoed loudly through the church and Killian's head snapped around. She saw the exact moment he recognized her, his whole posture stiffening before he slowly stood up and moved out of the pew.

Her feet seemed to weigh a ton, each step harder as the last one as she walked towards him, a small part of her hoping for a smile from him. Of course, she didn't get one. That would have been way too easy. But couldn't he give her at least something?

Her nerves fluttered like crazy when she reached him, the hard expression on his face making it even harder to suppress the urge to just turn around and flee.

"What are you doing here, Miss Swan?"

It hurt more than she wanted to admit that he addressed her like that. Not that she could fault him for not using her given name. She'd wanted a clean cut. She deliberately wanted her words to hurt him so that there would be no way they could go back to what they had before. But now they  _needed_ to go back. She needed him to love her as much as she loved him.

"I...I need…we..."

The words wouldn't come, and just being in his presence sent a wave of dizziness through her body. Not to mention that the whole town needed her to find a way to make this right again. To kiss him with all the love she felt and hope for the best. But she couldn't just plant one on him, could she?

She had a whole speech prepared in her mind, but she couldn't remember one word of it now. She really didn't know how to explain all of it, and maybe the direct approach would work better anyways. So she just stepped up to him and pulled his head down, pressing her mouth to his. Her heart thumped madly in her chest while she kept her lips against his and waited. But nothing happened. No whoosh of magic swept over them. He didn't even react to the kiss. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he didn't really love her. Because if he did, shouldn't he know it deep down that they belonged together?

The truth crashed down on her and she stumbled backwards, loss and failure slamming the air out of her lungs.

"I'm sorry, Emma," Killian said softly, his face still void of any emotions. "But you were right. We never had a future together. We both should accept that and move on."

A tremor rocked through her, swirls of panic threatening to drown her. This was it. This was the end. It was over.

They were doomed. All of them were doomed.

She couldn't keep standing there. She needed to flee. They would all die, and there was nothing she could do about that.

Swallowing a sob, she whirled around and started to run, tears blinding her vision as she rushed out of the church. She kept running until her lungs seemed to burst and her leg muscles ached. Only then did she stop and leaned forward, planting her hands on her knees and taking in huge gulps of air.

She had failed. She had failed everyone.

* * *

Killian could only stare after her, his lips still tingling from her kiss. He had no clue what that had all been about. She'd been so cold yesterday when she told them they were over. But now, just twenty-four hours later, she walked up to him and kissed him without any explanation.

What did she expect? That she could just come up to him and continue where they left off?

He had just gotten a modicum of his composure back after hours of praying, but then Emma showed up and shattered his resolve once again. But he'd stayed strong, even if the crushed expression on her face after she'd kissed him had nearly made him falter. He'd almost kissed her back, but he hadn't spent the last hours in the church searching for the solace he found in his faith to just crash it on a whim. Because it was only a whim.

He wouldn't let himself think it had been more. She'd probably only came back for one last taste of him. As much as his body wanted to take her up on the offer, he couldn't do it. For a brief moment he'd contemplated the idea of giving up a whole lot for the woman who made his life so much brighter. He would never forget the time they'd spent together. But it was over now, and that was a good thing. He had to believe that. Otherwise he might not be able to keep himself out of the darkness.

* * *

She'd been on autopilot ever since she'd left Killian, keeping a happy mask firmly in place for her son. But it was cracking and she could hardly keep it together until Henry left for school again.

They were running out of time. They had no way of stopping it, at least no way she knew of. Maybe it was time to take Neal up on his offer and go to him to talk. Maybe he forgot to mention something important the seer had told him. Maybe if they went over it again together there would be a clue buried somewhere in the cryptic message about another solution to break the curse.

She clung to that morsel of hope and threw on her clothes, pulling her hair in a haphazard ponytail and foregoing putting on any make-up. Considering the mess they were in, putting on lipstick and eyeshadow seemed a complete waste of time. Grabbing her keys, she rushed out of the door. The sooner she talked to Neal, the closer she was to finding a way to stop the apocalypse from happening.

A cold shiver ran down her spine as she entered Gold's old shop. Everything was like it was the last time she'd been in there, which seemed like a lifetime ago. She'd only ever been in there to confront Gold or practically force him to give her something to solve a problem. And there had been so many since she'd come to this town with Henry.

When Neal stepped into the shop through the curtain at the back, she shoved all those memories away. They had no place here right now. There were much more urgent matters to attend to.

"What's wrong?" Neal asked wearily, apparently picking up on the anxiety that jittered all over her body.

The lump in her throat that had been there since yesterday grew larger, making it hard for her to speak. Her voice sounded way too hoarse as she said, "It didn't work."

"Oh," Neal said, his shoulders slumping, the haggard expression on his face deepening even further. "I see."

She wanted to scream at him. Yell at him until her throat was raw. But that wouldn't get them anywhere, would it? They needed to find another way to break that curse, and there were only five days left. She'd racked her brain throughout the whole night, only sleeping in fits, strange dreams making her sleep anything but restful. But no matter how hard she tried to find another solution, she'd come up empty.

"Neal, we…" She gulped hard, trying to keep a lid on the panic that had lingered in the back of her mind ever since he'd come to find her and tell her about the next crisis. The ultimate crisis. "There has to be another way. The seer must have seen more."

"I'm sorry, Emma. I went over her prediction in my mind over and over again. There isn't another way. Even if there is one...we don't have the time to find it." He let out a shuddering breath and lifted his hand to pinch his nose. His eyes fell closed as he went silent for far too long, making Emma's anxiety ratchet up considerably. God, she hated feeling so out of her element. When he finally opened his eyes again and looked at her she hoped for a miracle. But it didn't happen. "You're sure it didn't work?"

"Yes, there was no whoosh of magic. Henry still doesn't remember." Her throat tightened up even more, the hopelessness of their situation tying her stomach in knots. "I failed. I failed everyone."

Neal furrowed his brows, looking at her pensively. His odd look didn't help with her current mood and she snapped, "What?"

"Tell me how it went down."

She didn't want to tell him, but they were running out of time and if they wanted to find a solution he needed to know everything. So she told him what exactly happened when she went to see Killian.

"You just kissed him?" he asked incredulously, his expression conveying complete disbelief.

"What was I supposed to do? Explain everything to him?" Emma huffed, throwing her hands in the air, exasperation about the situation getting the better of her. "That certainly would have gone down well."

"Does he know you love him?"

"I guess."

"You  _guess_?"

"I never told him," Emma admitted, suddenly feeling foolish for not thinking about telling Killian how she truly felt about him. He should know.

"So you pushed him away, told him it was over for good and then you just showed up and planted a kiss on him."

He didn't voice it as a question, but his disapproval of how she'd handled it was a little too much for her right now. "Don't act as if you're capable of giving any relationship advice."

"Touché." He held up his hands, his eyes softening as he looked at her. They really needed to have a talk when this was all over. Clear the air. Henry should have been able to have his father in his life. She wanted him to get to know his father better. But first they needed to survive this new crisis. Neal cleared his throat and stepped closer, putting a hand on her arm. "I might not be very fond of the pirate. But I know he loves you. Look Emma, I can imagine that this is probably the scariest thing you've ever done. But it has to be done."

"What thing?"

"You need to jump. Jump high and wide, without fear."

She almost took a step backwards, his words bringing all her old fears back to the forefront. "I tried. And it didn't work."

"Try harder," Neal said emphatically, pulling her into his arms. And she let him. Just for one moment she would let herself be weak and lean on him. His voice was low when he whispered into her ear, "I promise you, Emma. He will catch you. You just have to believe in him."

Believe in him? Believe in the pirate?

As the words reverberated in her mind she realized that she already did. She truly believed in him. She might not have been able to jump before the curse, but now...after spending so much time with him over the last weeks, seeing him in a totally different light without their pasts clouding her mind?

She did. She truly did.

She stepped out of Neal's embrace and walked over to one of the cluttered shelves, just needing a few minutes to pull herself together. Closing her eyes, she conjured up an image of Killian in her mind. Saw him for a split second in his robes and with the white collar of his profession around his neck before the picture changed and he was clad in his pirate clothes.

She needed to stop separating these two sides of him. True, she'd fallen in love with a priest, but curses didn't change the person you were deep down. The true you. It might have taken way longer for her to see the true Killian without the curse, but she knew without a doubt that she would have seen him eventually.

He'd won her heart fair and square.

She loved him. She believed in him. In them. They were destined to be together. He was her True Love. She was sure of that.

New determination flowed through her and she swirled around to Neal, her voice strong and sure as she said, "All right, I'll give it another try."

* * *

This time she found him at his house and she stepped into the kitchen without knocking after she'd spied him through the window. The unexpected opening of the door clearly startled him, his eyes wide in surprise for a second before an indifferent mask fell over his expression. It shot a sharp jab of pain through her heart to see no warmth in his eyes but she wouldn't let the doubts creep back in.

_You just have to believe._

"Killian, I love you," she blurted out before she could talk herself out of it. "I love you so much that it scares me half to death. I know I pushed you away, but I didn't mean it. I didn't want you to have to choose. Between me and your faith." She paused, needing to take in a deep breath. He still hadn't moved. He didn't give her any reaction whatsoever to her words, but she wasn't finished yet. She would not give up the fight so easily. "I might not need you in my life. But I want you. I want to share the rest of my life with you. You're  _it_. The love of my life. My only…" Her voice wobbled, tears welling up in her eyes as she whispered the next words, "My true love."

There, she'd said it out loud. Faced all her fears head on. Let herself fall. Not that she thought that just saying it would lift the curse.

"Emma, I…" For the first time his mask cracked, showing her a glimpse of the pain he felt, too. A flicker of hope lit up in her chest, just to be snuffed out with his next words. "We talked about this. We wouldn't last. Staying together would just end in more heartache."

"God damn it, pirate," she cursed, grabbing the lapels of his shirt and yanking him forward. "I need you to remember. You wanted my goddamn heart and now it belongs to you. So you need to kiss me and mean it."

"Pirate? What are you talking…"

"Not important right now," she snapped, cutting him off before she'd told him everything. She could imagine the outcome. He'd probably call the guys with the white shoes and straightjackets to cart her off to the next loony bin. A hysterical laughter got caught in her throat and unwanted tears pricked the back of her eyes. "Just for once, forget about your profession." The hysterical laughter she didn't want to let out tickled the back of her throat again. "Tell me the truth." Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to just push the words out, no matter how much his answer might hurt. "Do you love me?"

He didn't say anything for a very long time and the last strands of hope she'd had about still being able to save the town crumbled to dust with each passing second. But then his face softened, his eyes warming up with the love he'd shown her over the last weeks and she gripped his shirt even tighter, her hold on him the only thing that kept her upright right now.

"Yes, I love you. God help me, I love you." His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip, his eyes so full of love that she had to gulp down the tears that threatened to fall. "I love you more than you can imagine."

"Then show me."

She kissed him then, crashing her lips on his and devouring his mouth like she had in Neverland. This time he reciprocated the kiss with the same fervor, one of his arms circling her waist and pulling her close, his cock thickening against her stomach as he deepened the kiss. For a split second, she thought it still wouldn't work. But then a prickling sensation started at her toes and crept upwards until it reached her lips and then magic exploded out of her and washed over them, knocking them apart.

She stumbled into the counter, hitting her hip hard. But she didn't even really feel the pain, fixated on his face, waiting for him to say something. And then he did and the one word out of his mouth brought tears to her eyes.

"Swan?"

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she looked at him, searching his face for any sign of recognition. He looked totally dumbfounded, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. She might have felt the magic rushing through her but she was still not entirely sure it had worked. But then he changed in front of her. She couldn't describe it any better. The changes weren't big. Just small things she remembered about the pirate she met in the Enchanted Forest. The way he straightened his shoulders, the way he suddenly seemed to stand taller. His eyes crinkled at the corners as his mouth curled up into the smirk she hadn't seen in weeks. She couldn't put her finger on what exactly made that smirk different. But it was. It was his pirate smirk.

He was back. It had worked.

"Did you miss me?" she asked, aiming for cocky, but instead it came out uncertain as her voice broke on the last word.

"Aye, I did."

Before she could break down, his arms wrapped around her and he hauled her into his embrace. She buried her face in his neck and clutched the shirt at his back, finally letting the tears fall. He just held her close, whispering nonsense in her ear as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. Being back in his arms again was more wonderful than she could have imagined. He wanted her. He loved her.

His lips brushed against her temple, his voice a soothing rumble in her ear, "You were always on my mind, Emma. Even while we were cursed. I dreamt about you and our time in Neverland."

"Me too," she mumbled against his skin, tightening her arms around his waist. But she didn't need to dream about him any longer. The reality was so much better. As much as she wanted to stay in his arms forever, she wouldn't be able to relax completely until she'd made sure that the rest of Storybrooke was okay. Leaning back in his arms, she lifted her hand and cupped his cheek. His mouth curled up in a brilliant smile and she got up on her toes to steal another kiss. Sighing softly, she rocked back on her feet, as ready as she could be to face reality again. "We should go to Granny's. See if everyone has their memories back."

"All right, love." He bent down to press another soft kiss on her lips before letting her go. "Lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **There are two chapters left and since I'll go on vacation for two weeks next Friday I will post the next chapter on the 2nd and the epilogue on the 3rd.**
> 
> **Hope I'll see you then. :-)**


	15. Old Fears

Granny's was a cacophony of loud voices, people shouting over each other. There were a lot of tears and and a lot of laughter. She didn't even get two steps into the diner before her mother rushed towards her and pulled her into her arms.

"Emma, thank God you're here."

Another set of arms enveloped her from the side, lips brushing over her forehead while a hand cradled the back of her head. She had to close her eyes and gulp hard to keep herself from bursting into tears when her father pulled her and her mother into a tight embrace.

"We missed you," her father whispered against her ear and new tears pricked the back of her eyes. God, she'd cried enough over the last few days. She shouldn't have any tears left in her.

"Mom!" Her parents were hardly able to get out of the way before Henry barreled into her almost knocking her off her feet. "We were cursed. Can you believe it?"

"Yes, kiddo. I can." She found Killian's eyes over her son's head and she smiled, her heart swelling in her chest.

"Of all things you became a priest," Regina said as she walked towards them, eyeing Killian from head to toe.

"Madame Mayor," Killian replied, bowing slightly.

"Pan had a weird sense of humor."

"That isn't humor. He was a madman," Killian said, his eyes turning dark as he spoke of the man who'd woven the curse. Maybe one day she could ask him what exactly he had to endure in all the years he was forced to spend on the island. She would like to know everything that shaped him into the man he was today.

"That, too," Regina replied dryly. "So how did the curse got broken?"

Killian's gaze flickered to her, clearly leaving the explanation to her. She wasn't ready to let everyone know that she'd found her True Love so she opted for the slightly cryptic answer, "Magic, of course."

"I won't let you get away with that answer, Emma." Regina glared at her and crossed her arms over her chest. But thankfully Robin joined them and distracted Regina successfully by pulling her into an embrace and kissing her.

She'd hoped for a little more time with Killian, but he was pulled away by Robin a moment later and Henry needed her attention, talking excitedly about all the cool stuff that happened during the curse. After he left her to go back to Regina, it was a whirlwind of people coming to talk to her, all certain that their Savior had broken the curse. Of course, they were right. But she always gave the same answer she'd given Regina, avoiding to go into any more details.

"Emma, come on," Ruby's voice echoed through the diner and she spotted her friend behind the bar, waving her over enthusiastically. "It's time for some margaritas."

She grinned at her friend, glad that Ruby offered a break from the constant conversations. And drinking a margarita sounded wonderful.

* * *

Emma had been whisked away almost immediately after they'd entered the diner and he didn't really mind. After all, she had been the one who broke the curse and deserved the townspeople singing her praise. He also understood why she didn't want to tell everyone how exactly the curse had been broken. His cursed self had talked to a lot of people over the last months, but now where they all had their memories back he didn't know how they would react to the fact that their Savior's True Love was a pirate with a very dark past.

Reaching for his beer, he took a sip, letting his eyes roam through the diner. Everyone was celebrating, ignoring him for the moment, for which he was grateful. He needed a few minutes to himself to come to grips with everything that happened over the last months. Especially with the fact that Emma loved him. Truly loved him. He still couldn't believe it. His memories of their time together during the curse clashed with the memories he had of her from their time in the Enchanted Forest and Neverland. She'd definitely warmed up to him in Neverland, but they hadn't been anywhere close to entering a relationship.

The curse had changed that. Brought them together in a whole new way. A rush of heat washed over him as he remembered how often she'd offered her body to him, how incredible it'd been to push deep inside of her and make her come with his name on her lips. He wanted to do it again soon. Hopefully the celebration would wind down eventually and they could sneak away. Henry had told him excitedly that he planned on staying the night with his other mother, making up for lost time. He couldn't help feeling slightly relieved about that. He and Emma still needed to talk about a lot of things and it would make things easier if her son wasn't present for that. Especially since he planned on showing her that having all his memories back would make their lovemaking even better.

But Emma wasn't the only one he'd gotten close to over the last months. He'd made a few friends as the town's priest. One of those friends was sitting beside Regina in a booth, their heads bent together in deep conversation, the serious expression on their faces telling him that they were probably talking about Robin's son. Robin had told him about his life in the Enchanted Forest over a glass of rum after he'd pulled Killian in his arms and slapped his back. He was one of the few people who got to know him as a priest and didn't know anything about his past as a pirate, and he didn't treat him any differently after having all his memories back. Robin even thanked him once again for pointing him in the right direction. Even if the curse had pulled him away from his life, he'd found Regina with the help of a priest.

Talking to David had been much more stilted, but that didn't came as much of a surprise. David had never been very fond of him, though saving him in Neverland had thawed his icy demeanor a little bit. But the prince struggled with the current situation like anyone else. They'd forged a much closer friendship over the last months, but now they were thrown back into their old lives and it would take some time until everything sorted itself out again.

He could be patient. And David was Emma's father. He wanted his blessing when it came to being together with his daughter. Being True Love might make it easier. After all, David just wanted Emma to be happy and with a man who respected and loved her.

Shifting in his seat, his eyes fell on the prosthetic on his left hand. He had to admit he kind of missed his hook and would definitely feel more like himself when he could click it back into place. Not to mention that wearing the clothes of a priest made him slightly uncomfortable. He didn't consider himself a good man. He'd made a lot of mistakes in his life. But maybe God was really as forgiving as the church said. At least lightning hadn't struck him yet for having the audacity to wear a white collar.

A laugh rang through the diner and he smiled, recognizing the sound immediately. Watching Emma joking around with Henry at the bar lightened his heart. She'd carried so much weight for such a long time on her shoulders and he would do anything to lighten that burden. He could do that now. After she'd let down her walls and let him truly in.

He might not deserve her, but True Love's Kiss didn't lie. They were destined to be together and he would cherish her until his last breath.

* * *

Emma should have known this had been all too good to be true. Had she really believed her fears would just evaporate into thin air? Of course they didn't. They had apparently just waited for her to have the time to lean back and take a breath without anyone needing her immediate attention. Now they were back in full force.

Suddenly it felt all too much. She wasn't ready for this. She'd never be ready for this. Her whole family was here. Her friends. The man she loved. But the air around her seemed to be suddenly extremely thin, making it hard for her to breathe. For twenty-nine years she had no one – no family, hardly any friends. And the friends she did have...they'd all betrayed her at some point. First Lily, then Neal.

This couldn't last. It never lasted.

She couldn't breathe in here. She needed to get out.

Looking around, she realized that no one was paying her any attention right now. Killian was talking to one of the dwarves, David and Mary Margaret were busy with each other, Ruby sat in a corner with Victor and Mulan, their entwined hands telling Emma that they would weather this storm together. She was really glad for her friend. Henry was sitting in a booth with Robin and Regina, the adults listening attentively to him.

But she just couldn't embrace the good things the curse had brought into her life as easily as all the others. The fear of losing everything again was still there and she didn't know how to deal with it. She walked towards the restrooms and slipped out of the back door.

She ended up at the playground Henry was so fond of, sitting down on the monkey bars and ignoring the cold for the moment. The silence surrounding her was exactly what she'd needed. But it didn't last long. She hadn't even made a dent in the mountain of conflicting emotions swirling through her mind when two figures approached her. She'd expected Killian or Ruby to come find her, not her parents.

"Why are you here?" she asked them when they reached her.

"Neal told us the whole story," her mother replied, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Of course he did."

"A pirate, Emma?" David said incredulously, shaking his head.

"David!" Mary Margaret scolded him, smacking her hand against his chest.

"He is so much more than that. Not that it matters now. I can't…" Emma trailed off, not able to explain the turmoil in her mind. "Look, the curse is broken. There is no need for us to stay together."

"But you want to," Mary Margaret said softly.

"No...yes...God damn it, I don't know what I want."

"But you do you love him, right?" David asked, a frown still between his eyes.

"I...I don't know...I…" She didn't even know why she tried to deny it. They had broken the curse. No matter how scared she was about feeling so deeply for him, magic didn't lie. They shared True Love's Kiss. God, she was scared shitless. But still… "Yes, I do love him."

"Emma," David pulled her into his arms, cupping her head. The familiar gesture choked her up all over again. "What are you so afraid of?"

"Losing him," she whispered, voicing her biggest fear out loud. "I can't lose him."

Her parents were silent for a few heartbeats before her father spoke up again, "True Love isn't easy. But it must be fought for, because once you find it, it can never be replaced."

"You're not helping here, David."

"It does," Emma murmured into her father's shoulder. "Strangely, it helps."

She couldn't turn away from Killian, no matter how scared she was. She loved him, truly loved him. And she didn't want to live without him again. She would take all the time she could get with him no matter how long it might be.

"Can you tell him that I'll be at the cabin?"

"We will."

"Thank you."

* * *

The fire she'd started when she reached the cabin had just began to emanate some heat when the door opened and Killian stepped in. Just seeing him was enough to push the lingering tendrils of her fears back. She rushed forwards and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

"Are you all right, love?"

"Now, I am," she murmured, tilting her head to bury her nose in his neck. "I'm just scared."

"What are you scared of?"

"Losing you."

He pushed her gently back to look her in the eyes, a soft smile pulling his lips up. "If there's one thing I'm good at...it's surviving. I'm over three hundred years old, Emma. You won't lose me."

"I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for, love?"

"For running."

"It's understandable. As always, you've had a hefty load lying on your shoulders. But you don't have to carry the savior's duties alone anymore. I'll be at your side to help carry the burden. Always and forever."

"I love you," she whispered, pushing him backwards until his knees hit the couch and he fell down on it.

"And I love you," he replied, wrapping his fingers around her hand to pull her down. But she resisted the pull, only leaning down to brush her mouth over his.

"Too many clothes," she mumbled against his lips, her fingers already busy with opening her pants.

"Agreed."

She couldn't keep her eyes off him as he rid himself of his clothes while still sitting down. Being this distracted wasn't conducive to shedding her own clothes any faster, but what a sight it was. As always, she was utterly mesmerized by the ease with which he got out of his clothes using only one hand.

"You need a hand, love?" he drawled while wrapping his hand around his thick cock and pumping it slowly.

Her mouth went dry as he gathered the precum at the tip and smoothed it down his length. Her voice shook as she said, "No, I've got it."

She almost ripped the buttons of her shirt apart in her haste to get naked, letting out a few curse words when her pants didn't want to cooperate, her frantic efforts earning her a deep chuckle from Killian. Her eyes snapped up to him when her panties finally hit the floor and the breath stuttered out of her.

God, he was stunning. Just stunning.

His broad shoulders tapered out into a narrow waist, his thick cock practically seeking her attention. His eyes were hooded with need, his tongue coming out to lick obscenely over his bottom lip as his gaze trailed over her body, every spot his eyes lingered over going up in flames, lust racing through her veins.

The fire might have already generated enough heat so that they didn't freeze without clothes on, but Emma didn't have any concerns about being cold. Killian was a living furnace and the moment he pulled her down into his lap all she could feel was heat.

Straddling him, she pushed down, rubbing her already wet folds over his fingers that were still wrapped around his length. He groaned and pulled his hand back, resting it over her hip. She moaned when his cock nestled between her folds and pressed against her clit. This was definitely one of her favorite positions. She loved being on top, riding him. Making love to him this way meant she could torture him as long and as much as she wanted to while being so close to his face that she could watch every single change of his eye color. From stormy gray to startling blue, and at the end almost black when his pupils blew wide the moment his orgasm hit him.

When she took his cock in hand and pumped it slowly, stormy gray. And then that startling blue when she lifted up to position him at her entrance. The hitch of his breath accompanied the widening of his pupils as she pushed down and took him in until her ass rested on his thighs.

In this position, he didn't even have to bend down to put his lips around her nipple. He liked to keep one arm wrapped around her tightly to keep her in place with his cock all the way inside of her while he worshipped her nipples into stiff, aching points. He always reduced her to a whimpering, writhing mess. Hence the torture from her the moment he loosened his arm and let her move.

She only rotated her hips slightly, relishing in his moans. She could see the tension all over his body, his need to take over apparent in the flexing of his fingers against her skin and the muscle that jumped in his cheek.

"You like that, don't you, love?" he rasped, pushing slightly upwards to urge her silently into moving.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Emma said, lifting her hips just an inch before sliding down again.

"Torturing me like that."

"Like this?" she asked, pulling completely off him, only letting the head of his cock rest between her folds.

"Enough," he growled, snapping his hips up and pulling her down, thrusting deep into her.

"Fine," she replied, trying to go for nonchalant but her voice came out way too breathy. And if she was honest with herself, she couldn't wait any longer either.

She curled her hands around his shoulders and started to move, riding him slowly at first, but picking up speed with each glide until she was riding him as fast as she could go. He screwed his eyes shut, his head falling back on the couch as he met every one of her movements with his own. She closed her eyes, too, just concentrating on the sensations he elicited in her as she let completely go. Her muscles started to tremble with the effort, her breathing ragged as sweat popped out all over her body, but she ignored it. She just needed to hold out a little while longer. She could already feel the orgasm building up inside her, it would only take...and then his thumb was at her clit, rubbing it. Her eyes snapped opened as her body went taught, a guttural moan spilling from her lips as her climax hit her. He kept pumping into her, drawing it out until he stiffened beneath her and spilled his release into her.

She slumped against him, too exhausted to move. He shifted with his arms wrapped tightly around her until they were lying on the couch with her sprawled over his chest and his cock still inside her. She should feel uncomfortable with their sweaty skin sticking together and his cum trickling out of her, but she was just too content to move.

The fire crackled in the background and Emma's eyes fell on his clothes lying haphazardly on the ground. She smiled when she spotted the white collar. She kind of missed his pirate coat and leather trousers now that she had all her memories back, but the whole priest outfit definitely had its own perks.

"Can we keep the collar and the robes?" she asked, propping herself up to look him in the eyes.

He raised one eyebrow and gave her one of his cocky smirks. "You have a priest kink?"

"Apparently." Emma let out a moan when she felt him thickening inside of her again. "God damn it, Killian. Where do you get that stamina?"

"Are you complaining?" he asked, tightening his arm around her and flipping them around. How they didn't end up on the floor was a miracle to her, especially since he was still lodged deep inside her. But before she could voice her surprise he slipped out of her excruciatingly slowly, making her feel every single inch of his deliciously thick cock.

"No," she whispered, biting back another moan when he thrust forwards, burying himself inside of her again. "No complaints here."

"Are you certain?"

"Shut up and get to work, pirate."

He pulled out again, his mouth curling up in a smug smirk when she whimpered before he looked down at where they were joined. She dug her nails in his skin to get his attention and was almost blinded by the huge grin on his face as he met her gaze. He hovered at her entrance for a few more agonizing seconds, shifting against her but not pushing in. She almost lost her patience with him and smacked him, but then his eyes turned blazing hot and she knew the teasing was finally over.

"As you wish."

He slammed into her, the thrust hitting her just in the right spot and she moaned his name, completely losing herself as he took her hard and fast, bringing her higher and higher until they fell over the edge together.

As he crashed down on her, his weight pressing her into the mattress she could only smile like a fool. She'd never been more happy than just right now. With him being still deep inside her. She was right where she wanted to be. In the arms of her pirate. In the arms of her True Love.

She finally found her home.


	16. The Next Adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This is it! The end of this story. :-)**
> 
> **Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos. I hope you enjoyed reading this story and if my busy life allows it I’ll be back with another MC fic very soon. :-)**

_Christmas Eve_

"Killian, when can we go sailing with the Jolly Roger?" Henry asked, skipping from one foot to the other excitedly.

"We still have to wait for spring, Henry."

"Can we do a road trip? Just with the ship instead of the car?"

"I don't know what that means," Killian replied, wondering if there would ever come a time when he was familiar with all the colloquialisms of the modern world.

"He wants to make a trip out of it," Emma explained, holding the backpack out to Henry. "Visit a few cities on the way. Maybe sailing down the coast."

"I think we can arrange that." He could see the appeal in such a trip. If Emma would join them it would be even better. "But only if you will be my first mate."

"Aye, aye Captain," Henry said, snapping to attention and saluting him with his hand.

Killian grinned, lifting his hand to ruffle Henry's hair. Henry dodged his move, sighing loudly as he shook his head.

"See you two tomorrow." Henry kept still so that Emma could give him a goodbye peck and then he was out of the door.

Killian had expected Henry to have a problem with him dating his mother, but he'd only rolled his eyes at them when they'd told him and muttered under his breath "About damn time." That had definitely been one of the good things that had happened during the curse, bringing him closer to Emma and Henry without their pasts getting in the way.

Emma's arm came around his waist, hugging him tight. "You know, Henry will be at Regina's for the night."

"Is that so?" He turned his head and wiggled his eyebrows at her, shooting her a lascivious smirk. "And how might we entertain ourselves until tomorrow?"

"I might have an idea." She slipped out of his arms and walked towards the stairs, swinging her hips in a seductive way. Stopping at the door frame, she leaned against it, throwing him a promising look over her shoulder. Her mouth curled up into a mischievous smirk, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "See you upstairs, pirate."

And then she was gone, leaving him with a very prominent bulge in his pants, a bulge she needed to tend to. But judging by the expression on her face just seconds ago, he had no reason to worry. Lifting his hand, he started to open the buttons of his shirt as he followed her up the stairs. After all, they didn't want to waste one second of their time alone together. The more clothes he shed on his way to her the faster they could get to the more enjoyable activities.

* * *

Emma lay curled up against him, her whole body still humming from the orgasm he'd just given her, trailing her fingers down his left arm to his stump and up again. Her heart skipped a beat when she looked at where his arm ended, still amazed that he felt comfortable enough with her to let her see it. But they'd come a long way over the last weeks, even if making love to him was still new and exciting. She was definitely looking forward to the rest of the evening and night. Knowing her pirate, this orgasm would only be one of many until they needed to get up and ready for Christmas.

"What's our next adventure, Swan?" he murmured into her hair, his hand drawing circles over her back.

"The Enchanted Forest, I guess," she replied, arching her back into his touch. "We just need to figure out how to get there. We need to find our people. Robin needs to find his son and Mulan has to tie up a few loose ends. After that...I don't know."

"Every new day with you is an adventure, Emma."

She smiled and relaxed against him, letting her fingers sift through the hair on his chest. Her thoughts started to wander as she listened to his heart beat strong under her ear. She was truly happy with him, but when she thought about their future...she didn't want to have any regrets. Their lives were more unpredictable than those of 'normal' people. She was done with holding back. She would grab this life and live it without fear. She wanted it all with Killian. She wanted  _everything_ with him. And she thought he might want the same. She should ask him, even though her heart threatened to flutter out of her chest.

But...no more regrets.

"How do you feel about kids?" Emma asked, burying her face in his chest hair so that she didn't need to look him in the eyes.

"Why do you ask?" Trailing her fingers down his stomach, she contemplated distracting him with another round of sweaty, toe-curling sex. But her pirate knew her too well to let her get away with it. His hand closed over hers and stopped her before she could reach his cock. "Emma?"

Steeling herself she pushed up, tilting her head to meet his gaze, hope and love shining out of his eyes.

"Maybe after we've come back from the Enchanted Forest we could try to …" she trailed off, not finding the right words to tell him what she wanted. But she had to try. "I think Henry would like to have…"

He eyed her for a few seconds, his gaze scrutinizing. She almost started to squirm, needed to force herself to keep eye contact. But then a soft smile pulled his lips up and he asked, "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"Depends on what you are thinking," Emma replied, evading a direct answer, hoping he would take the hint and voice what she wasn't able to say out loud apparently.

"I would love to expand our family," he said softly and Emma let out a relieved breath. "You would make me a very happy man if you agreed to become my wife in the very near future."

"You're one very traditional pirate, aren't you?"

Her heart fluttered in her chest like a hummingbird. She might have thought about this quite often over the last days, ever since they'd settled down into their life together, but marriage and kids...it was still scary.

A flicker of doubt spread over his features, his smile faltering. "You don't want to get married to a pirate?"

She jerked in surprise. She never once thought him unworthy because he was a pirate. But she should have known that his fears didn't vanish overnight either. She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb over his lips. "I didn't say that."

"So if, say in a few months, after we've settled down a little I might ask you a certain question…" He pressed a kiss against her fingertips, leaving them tingling. His eyes were so full of love that tears welled up in hers. "What would be your answer?"

"Yes," she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. "My answer would be yes."

"Good to know."

He pulled her down for a kiss. It started gentle but quickly turned heated. Her nipples puckered with desire, already eager for his touch again. His cock hardened against her hips, telling her he was ready for the second round.

"How about we start practicing now?" she asked, throwing her leg over him and straddling him.

"Practicing what?"

He closed his hand around her hip and shifted her atop of him until his cock pushed through her folds. His fingers brushed over one of her nipples, tugging at it softly. Lust surged through her body, making it hard for her to hold on to any coherent thoughts. It took her a few seconds to remember his question and being able to answer it.

"Expanding our family."

His mouth curled up into one of his lascivious smirks and Emma's heart swelled in her chest. Leaning forward, she sealed her mouth over his, rocking her hips over his cock. She started to kiss her way down his neck, over his chest and stomach until she lay between his spread legs, his very erect cock right in front of her.

Talking about their future together might still scare her down to her bones, but of one thing she was absolutely certain as she leaned down and took him into her mouth.

The practicing part would never be anything less than phenomenal.

**The End**


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